The Art of Protection
by Zombeh Sakana
Summary: Is it possible for one's entire existence to be a lie? Is a 'self' something you can create with your own hands? Looking back, I find it laughable that I used to ask myself questions such as these. My regret is the very root of my understanding. MaLinkZel
1. Chapter 1:  Shadow

Chapter One - Shadow

If there is one thing that separates humanity from the rest of living creation, it is the ability to reflect upon your decisions – from the tiniest of choices to the series of events that make up your entire life – and hope beyond all reason that you had done it differently.

It makes no difference. Prayers are nothing but the shape of our own faults, spun into words and flung into a world we can never reach, just as an excuse for our own inaction. And yet, despite all we know and hold to be true, people still cling stubbornly to the belief that these little vessels of faith hold the power to turn back the clock and make even our wildest of wishes come true.

It would be easy enough to blame it on the Sheikah – or more accurately, the way they raised me. The first thing they taught me was never to speak unless spoken to. Second was not to show emotion; sentiment is the gateway to weakness. Third, do not form attachments – worldly things are deadly tools your enemies can use against you.

But the fourth rule, the most harshly enforced and obstinately undying principal, the one that undermines even the most miniscule aspects of Sheikah society, is this: obey without fail.

So even when told I was to capture the Princess of the greatest Kingdom in the world, I did not object.

If there is one thought that haunts my mind even now, it's what exactly the distinction is between a _human being _and a _tool. _Even at that point the thought has crossed my mind before – "tool of the accursed clan" had been spat at me on the dying breath of more than one of my targets – and the answer had seemed so, so simple: human beings have loyalties, while tools are a brand of weapon that do not differentiate between the hand that wields them and the hand they sever. I never suspected just how wrong I could be.

It would be pointless to say I regret accepting the mission. I simply scanned over the drawing of her Royal Highness Zelda and the blueprints of Hyrule Castle Seif handed to me, and, ignoring Impa's concerned stares, bowed in acceptance. Because even if I said I regretted it, it wouldn't change anything. Because even if I said I regretted it, I know now, that in the deepest, darkest, wisest part of my heart, I would be lying.

Because that mission saved me; saved me in ways that, even now, I am only beginning to understand.

I perched upon one of the great spires of Hyrule Castle, allowing the cool spring air to billow through my cloak as I ran the plan over in my head for what must have been the fiftieth time. The courtyard below was awash in mellifluous moonlight, a pastel sheen sparking off the gently swaying leaves below. A darker night would have done me well, as the moon was large and bright as a lily white sunrise, but the orders specifically said "t_o be carried out by the fortnight's end."_

I drew in the chilled air and gripped my sword tighter, closing my eyes against the daunting prospect before me. Even then I suppose I had enough sense to feel nervous before attempting to single-handedly invade the most well-guarded fortress in all the kingdom, despite the years of training that told me to erase all traces of emotion from my heart.

Gathering my nerve, I pried my eyelids open and inspected the scene once more: 12 Guards, two each at all three entrances to the courtyard and two in front of the castle's main entrance, as well as four patrolling the entire girth of the enormous space. Each was equipped with a lantern, lance, and full-body armor. Several of them looked drunk, or were chatting away idly without a care in the world.

One patrolman in particular was hanging his head so low in exhaustion that it looked like his helmet would slip off at any moment. He would be the first target.

I shifted my position on the spire so that my hands were held as if in prayer, but dared not cross my legs in case I slipped. Breathlessly, I murmured the 5 sacred precepts, as was tradition before missions. I remember thinking then that the whole ordeal would have been so much easier if it was just another assassination instead of a capture order – though the first precept clearly states that to harm even the smallest of lifeforms is vile and should only be preformed when absolutely necessary.

I opened my eyes once more, all hesitation gone, and peered down at the target guard. The orange glow of his lantern crept out from behind a bush, and soon his silhouette, sallow and pitch black, stepped out into the open. Ten seconds and he would be directly below me. I narrowed my eyes and urged him forward, longing to get the whole thing done and over. He seemed to crawl along at a snail's pace.

Five seconds. I tightened my grip on my broadsword.

Four. Three. Two.

I snatched in a hasty breath -

One.

I flung myself upon him, wind whipping through my hood as my hilt hit his neck with a reverberating clang. He slouched lifelessly into the crook of my arm. I caught his lantern deftly and threw it into the nearest hedge. A blaze started instantly.

I dropped his body and receded into the shadow of the wall, the smell of panic rising to my nose as the more aware guards caught sight of the small inferno. I watched intently as the clumsy form of one of the door guards prodded his partner awake and began running towards the commotion.

I instantly shot along the shadow's edge, hurdling off the wall towards the groggy guard and knocking him unconscious before he could turn around. I snatched up his keys and snapped them in the lock to prevent anyone else from opening the giant oak door before sliding it closed behind me.

The entrance hall was massive. The two stone staircases were like snakes of ivory viciously circling in a never-ending ceremony; the crystalline chandelier a raptor waiting to swoop down in the dull greyness. I only paused to take it in for a moment before stealing up the crimson waterfall of carpet and darting down the third-story west wing corridor.

It was a nauseatingly large hallway, marked only by rows of empty armor and candles waltzing in the iridescent darkness. I hugged the wall as I came to the plain birch doors I knew to lead to the kitchen and servant's quarters. I could hear a medley of voices playing faintly against the large slab of wood, but could see nothing through the rusted keyhole.

I leapt back suddenly as I felt a jerk through my senses – the crunch of a handle, screech of laughter, flood of light, and the door opened. From the shadow of a suit of armor, I watched what looked to be a young milkmaid and stable boy emerge, the reek of alcohol and musky lust accompanying them. But they were of no significance.

I took in as much as I could of the chaos beyond the door. The number of late-stayers was immense; they danced in broken circles, laughter and merriment radiating off of them in droves but the stench of greed and envy creating a thick undercoating. I wrinkled my nose.

I eliminated the possibility of passing through directly and instead summoned the image of the castle's ventilation system to my mind. There was a small vent connecting this hallway to the kitchen, and one from the kitchen through the boiler room and weapon's storage that led to the upper bailey.

I scanned the wall quickly and found what I was looking for about two meters off the ground to the left of the door, conveniently placed near a brass candle holder. Nothing a Shiekah assassin couldn't handle.

Reluctantly, I stepped out into the wide open hallway and backed several meters away from the wall. Tensing my legs, I sprung forward and sprinted towards the wall, jumping up off the stone surface and grabbing the candlestick. It was surprisingly hot, and I swung myself over to the vent opening with hasty vigor. Though only my fingertips were inside the shaft, I could tell it was cold. And dusty. Very, very dusty.

I sighed inwardly before hauling myself into the small opening. _Very, very dusty_ was an understatement. It was more like the grime of several centuries had accumulated in one, narrow spot, and the chilly air streaming through it flung spiderwebs into my face the instant I entered. That was probably the first time I felt more than slight disillusionment with the servants of the castle – even forced to live in the shadowed caves of the mountains, the Sheikah would never allow their living quarters to become so dirty. But of course, I was a high and mighty Sheikah, so I couldn't allow myself to be_ too_ upset with them. They were meaningless, after all.

Also, seeing as I was _so _important a person, I had to crawl though the muck with a sword as long as me and could not allow my cloak to get caught in too many cobwebs, because Sheikah are always supposed to be elegant.

I crossed the kitchen by jumping across the high cabinets with no problem, but soon had to face the terrors of yet another archaic ventilation shaft. I imagine I must of at least felt slightly relieved when I finally reached the cool night air once more. I dropped noiselessly down onto the upper bailey (walkway on top of the outer wall) and observed the long stone pathway before me tensely. With battlements, angled spikes, and strategically placed archers, it was almost impossible to access from the outside. Apparently, the King never expected someone to come in through the front door.

I inspected the looming shadow before me – the tower where my target lay, unaware. Like strokes of ink, it sparked, jet black, against the overbearing face of the moon. I scanned the surrounding towers for archers, but finally had to face the three-meter wide pathway before me. I took a deep, calming breath, and shot forward.

It seemed like an eternity of glancing over my shoulder before I was finally pressed against the tower's base, though it had probably only been a few seconds. I gathered my thoughts and pressed my ear to the giant iron keyhole, trying to ascertain how many guards the King had stationed to protect his precious daughter. Four – no, five men lay within, their long drawn breaths telling me every one of them was asleep.

I took a few steps back and raised my greatsword high into the air, swiftly bringing it down in a sharp arc that cleaved the lock in two. I caught the iron mass before it hit the ground, gently placing it off to the side so as to not make any noise.

The elegant wooden door was excellently oiled, so I could enter with all the silence of an owl in flight. Through the navy darkness, I could see the figures of the men spread rather haphazardly around the circular room, the moonlight glazing the blankets so that they appeared to be part of a painting.

I knew instantly something was wrong.

My eyes darted frantically around the room. No, there were definitely only five men – so why did I feel like I was being watched? I shrunk internally, the shadows on the walls seeming to stretch out and leave me wide open and defenseless. Then someone grabbed me.

Instinctively, I slashed my blade backwards and the grip on my cloak vanished. I whirled around only to come face to face – er, chest – with a man nearly a head and a half taller than me. I hissed in a narrow breath. Towering above me, his amber eyes narrowed in bemusement and his massive arms crossed with annoyance, was a Gerudo. A Gerudo male.

He took me in slowly, finally stilling his eyes when they reached my hooded face. There was silence for a moment, my heart ramming up against the interior of my ribs, but my cloaked figure held stark and sure. Finally, he spoke.

"I do not know why you have come here, Shadow, but if you wish to do harm to her Highness, you must first go through me."

We glared at each other like circling dogs for a few moments more, each sizing up the abilities of the other and coming up with an appropriate plan of action. Then all hell broke loose.

He brought out his blade with blinding speed and I hardly had time to duck. He whirled around to switch hands and brought the gigantic sword back around, but I flipped over his head and launched off the wall behind him, striking at his neck. He smashed his gauntleted wrist into my blade a moment before it would have made contact, throwing me off balance in mid-air. His other fist streaked towards me, but I feigned left and kicked down off his extended arm to roll into a crouching position. In a split-second decision I went for his legs, but stopped short as my peripheral vision caught his sword stabbing down from above.

I rolled back and hardly avoided the impact, the _whoosh_ of air playing along my forehead. I took the opportunity to leap at him, using his sword hand as leverage to flip over him and swing my greatsword back at his throat. He narrowly ducked and sidestepped to get out of range.

We paused, then, and I exhaled slowly and reassessed my options. I knew from the beginning that anyone who could conceal their presence from a Shadow was very dangerous indeed. I was surprised, however, to find the amount of speed he could muster while still commanding such brute force. Fighting him would be time-consuming. Not only that, but the other guards were already far on their way to being awake, some of them already bearing weapons. Though they had only woken seconds before, their attention was razor-sharp and it was obvious her Highness' personal guard wasn't a bunch of run-of-the-mill watchmen.

Even then, the idea of abandoning a fight didn't sit well with me. But, like I had been taught, the objective came first and foremost; any distractions, so matter how large, were to be ignored. Pride was just another obstacle.

I scanned the small room quickly before swinging my blade out in a full arc, smashing it into the weapons' storage and sending daggers and arrows scattering across the floor to hinder their movement. Though shocked, they recovered much more quickly than I expected and swept the carpet away, taking all the sharp points with it.

I turned to escape, but two surged forward and I had to do a spin parry, knocking them backwards into their companions. I had no time to relax, however, as three more came for me like wild dogs – perfectly coordinated in timing and aim. I remember the surge of irritation I had so long forgotten when one of them slashed my cheek, so I used his chest as a kick board to flip back onto the windowsill.

I tore the drapery from the window frame and threw it over the fray, not wasting a second in igniting it with Din's fire – there was no point is restraining myself from using magic now that they already knew I was a Sheikah. The men howled in panic and tried to tear the burning tapestry from their bodies, but I didn't spare them another glance before slipping out the window.

I stood on the small sill and contemplated how to scale the stone tower, but before I could move I cringed at a bone-crushing grip on my ankle.

I stared down in shock at the Gerudo, his sepia eyes alight with feral fury and his teeth bared in such a snarl that made even my heart shrink back. Though minor burns covered the entirety of his face, he lost no strength for the pain, and I could almost feel his fingernails digging into my flesh through my pant leg.

"How dare you defile her Highness' property!" he roared, clawing his way up the windowsill after me. Something snapped in my mind, and as if on instinct, I swung my blade straight down and through his wrist.

He shrieked in agony, clutching at the bloody stump like a wounded animal. Even _I _couldn't help but to shudder as I pried his still clenched fingers from my ankle. With more haste than caution I thrust my sword deep into the stone wall, using it as leverage to pull myself up the rough surface.

I tried to find a fingerhold in the near-flat stones, having to dangle by just one hand for several moments as I slid the sword out of the granite and onto its resting place on my back. Knowing I had little to no time, I clambered up the tower as a squirrel might scale a tree, eventually making my way to the vines that covered the entire east face. From there it was much easier – the vines were strong and sturdy and held my weight easily as I quickly pulled myself up to a delicate stained glass window. It was unlocked.

I caged my breath in my chest and silently slipped inside.

The room was awash in patches of rainbow-colored moonlight, streaming through the stained glass window and blanketing the darkness in pale iridescence. At first all was still, so utterly still, and I seemed very much alone in the calm night. Then, slowly, a heartbeat rose to meet my ears, and breath as soft as a feather riding the wind told me another was near.

And then I saw her.

She looked at me with eyes that contained all the oceans of the world. Harp golden strands of hair framed her ivory face, billowing elegantly around her slight shoulders. She quietly rose from her bed, and stared back at me with the cold regard of a statue; austere, precise, and utterly calm.

Even now, I'm not quite sure what it was that stopped me from moving. Her beauty, perhaps; her radiating sense of authority, more likely. But I think it was awe, awe at the fact that in such an overbearing presence of danger, she did neither flinch away nor call out in hatred. I knew better than anyone what lengths people will go to when faced with imminent demise, and had probably assumed that a Princess, if not only falling to these desperations, would expound upon them. How wrong I could be.

"...Do not take me for some feeble damsel," she stated slowly, eyes bearing into my hood, and I remember feeling her frustration at not being able to see my face. "I won't give in to the likes of you."

Faint yelling and footsteps from the stairwell reminded me that it wouldn't be long before her guards returned with a vengeance, and I even remember a note of panic being strung within my usually soundless heart. I lunged for the pressure point in her neck with my free hand, but recoiled more with shock than pain when a spark of magic shot up my arm.

"I...I told you I wasn't powerless," she stated, though her voice seemed slightly more disheveled and her eyes darted to the door to the stairway. The calls were growing louder, and now I could make out individual footfalls growing ever nearer.

With such unrefined magic, it would have been easy to overpower her – but something kept me from moving. I stared into her eyes, so vivid with determination and purpose, and I think I might have seen my empty reflection in them.

It... would be wrong to call it infatuation, or even curiosity. I suppose the best way to describe it would be a sort of respect; whatever it was, it kept me from knocking her out and carrying her away to her doom right there. My lack of action seemed to confuse her, though she still held her arms up in a makeshift defensive form. We held each other's gazes for a moment, before the footsteps escalated to a deafening crash and the door flew open.

Six men poured in, including the now handless Gerudo. I turned away from the Princess to face them, and if she made a sound, it was drowned out by the thunderous clash of metal.

I spiraled viciously and unarmed three of the guards, but two more surged forward in the blink of an eye. I parried one and narrowly dodged the other, his battle ax catching the fabric of my shoulder. With a strained swing I knocked him back, and with a gasp I shifted as an arrow whizzed past my ear and pinned my hood to the wall.

The Gerudo reared up before me, still oozing blood from his haphazardly bandaged wound, sword tightly grasped in his remaining hand.

Looking back, it's almost a little amusing to think that I considered allowing myself to be decapitated rather than having to remove my hood.

In a split second I rushed to the side, the heavy metal blade exploding on the spot where the mangled black fabric of my hood billowed with the impact. His eyes widened as he took in my face.

Judging from his expression, he wasn't expecting to find sky blue eyes and wheat blonde hair – obvious traits of a _Hylian. _

His shock quickly changed to anger as he pulled the blade from the wall and pointed it at my throat. "Why would someone like you work for the traitorous Sheikah clan!" I just glowered at him.

The Princess seemed just as stunned as he, and I glanced at her to find her mouth fly open as if to call out. It was in that tiny moment of distraction that I felt my head slammed brutally into the wall.

I gasped for breath as blaring white consumed my vision, but shook it off quickly to find myself completely surrounded. The Princess looked to be a sickly white, and the circle of guards swayed before me in resolute triumph. Then they rushed forward in sync.

With a haggard breath I leapt straight upwards, a huge clash of metal reverberating from beneath me. I landed on the mess of weapons and quickly did a back vault off it to the window sill, but in my stupor I slipped and plummeted harshly into the delicate glass.

As if stranded in hazy time, bits of stained glass flitted like razor-sharp butterflies, and I was vaguely aware of a feminine voice calling out through the wind that tore sheer white holes in the veil of black above. Then it was simply falling, falling...

My back slammed into a cubical stone and I flipped wildly, tumbling off and continuing my decent. I threw out my arm to catch at the stone wall, fingers scraping into the rough mineral with a searing hiss, but it did almost nothing to slow me down. My hand hit a jut and was thrown off the wall, sending me plunging down with the rain of debris. The ground kept screaming closer and I tried to right myself in the air, but my body wouldn't move no matter how hard I tried to make it. I landed in a lopsided roll, the soft soil of the ground hitting like a ton of steel.

I felt the air leave my lungs and realized my leg was twisted demonically beneath me, yet I could still feel the vibrant glass shower down like bits of rainbow-colored dust. I couldn't breathe.

And yet, the stars remained, like the sky was really just a big cloak over the truth of the world that only gave us just enough light to live on.

After what seemed like an eternity, the air flooded back into my lungs, leaving me to gasp and heave in the darkness.

I brought my moveable hand to my lips and gave a shallow whistle, though the only noise that arose was a whimpering breath. I tried again and managed to get a few notes out, but my lungs seemed to implode and left me no air to breathe with, much less whistle.

I looked passively up at the moon, wondering what it was that kept it from falling down and crushing everything. Then I noticed figures far above on the upper bailey pointing and shouting. With a dull crunch from my leg I heaved myself up, getting into as comfortable a position as possible, and watched with dull interest as one of them readied an arrow.

Then I heard it – the sound I'd both longed for and feared beyond all else. A low whinny followed by seemingly earth-shaking hoof beats told me that Epona had heard my call. Her form approached like a ghost of fire, though the night was as black as ever. She galloped up to me and slowed, kneeling to the ground to help me up.

I heard shouts of confusion from above, and an arrow struck the ground not a foot from where I hauled myself onto my mare's bare back. But then I stopped dead - I had no idea where my sword was.

Much to Epona's disapproval, I slid off her back and began searching around frantically for any sign of my weapon. Relief flooded my veins when I saw it lying a few feet away, and I clawed along the ground to reach it, Epona following nervously behind.

I stretched out my arm to its fullest extant, fingertips a mere inch from the golden handle, and yet I couldn't reach it. I tried to shuffle my way forward, but found my lower body wouldn't respond – then a pain like blue fire shot through my shoulder and a scream was torn from my throat.

I felt my arm quickly going numb, and for a moment, I was sure I was being sucked down into the earth – down to where all is close and quiet and there is no moon or mocking sky. Then Epona nuzzling my face brought me back up into the frigid night air.

I had no choice but to leave my sword behind or be either killed or captured, the biggest disgrace a Shiekah can face. I'm not sure how I did it, but somehow I managed to mount Epona, and she started at a slow trot as to not aggravate my already dire injuries. Arrows like dragons whizzed past my ears, and the undulation of Epona's canter was like being caught in a storm at sea. My arms hung limply around her neck, and the world spun in and out of focus with every meter further away from the ink black castle.

The adrenaline having worn off, I could feel a wight descending upon my mind and struggled futilely to keep my eyes open. It was then, caught between the crux of consciousness and eternal rest, that I muttered words that until much later in my life would make no sense to me: "Please, Epona... take me somewhere...safe..."

And with that the stars melted away and the world became nothing but pitch black.

-A/N: Hey! This is something I wrote quite a while ago, but I had a friend go through and edit it recently so I figured I might as well upload it. It doesn't take place in any particular game, but it will tie in with the timeline at some point. :) Oh, and one thing I wanted to clear up is that "Shadow" is a term that specifically means "Sheikah assassin" in the context of this story~ (I don't think I made that clear enough orz) So... I hope you enjoyed chapter one (I personally had way too much fun writing the scene where he falls out of the window...) and any constructive criticism regarding the wordiness, length, pacing, plot, whatever, is greatly appreciated! There will be more soon! :D


	2. Chapter 2:  Trace

Chapter Two - Trace

I was never sure if I believed in the Goddesses or not.

Din, Farore, Nayru – the three golden beings that gave life to the Hylians, Gerudoes, Zoras, Gorons, people of the forest, along with the very air we breathed and ground we walked. Even the most accursed Sheikah clan counted them as mothers. It was always said that the Hylians were given long ears to hear their words, made the most holy of the races.

But the Sheikah could use the Goddesses' magic as well; The Royal Hylian Family maintained that the Sheikah had stolen a forbidden magic generations ago, and though they were banished from the world of light they still held onto this ability shared only by Hylians. They were thieves not only to mortals, but to divinity.

But never have I seen a people so devoted to something they could never see. The Sheikah worshiped the Trinity more adamantly than anyone, let alone the single-minded Hylian castle servants that cared about nothing but a roof over their head and food in their bellies. Perhaps they wanted to prove that they were really the equals of the most holy Hylians, or perhaps they were begging forgiveness for sins they could not be certain their ancestors committed. I never understood it.

I worshiped the Goddesses as I carried out all other orders; through a sense of duty to my superiors. I went through the motions, I said the words, without feeling a shred of true commitment in my heart. I convinced myself I was a believer, but to the divine, I never held any true faith. How ironic, given what I am. What I was made to be.

I've only prayed two times in my lifetime.

I couldn't quite tell if I was awake or asleep, only that it was warm and soft and nothing at all like it should have been.

I was used to waking up in the chill dark of morning, when all the world was so still it felt like my heartbeat was the only thing that kept all existence from fading away.

Dawn streamed gently through the cotton curtains, washing the plain wood cottage in pastel purples and oranges that could put any palace to shame. It was quiet, but not the type of deep abyss of silence I was used to – birds chirped in both merriment and annoyance, the breeze filtered through the open window, and somebody was humming. Even now, I remember her outline very clearly: the light around her was too bright to be able to make out even what color she was wearing, but somehow the red glow of her hair stuck out like a Seraphim's flame.

It took my dreary mind half an eternity to realize that, First, this was not the Hyrule Castle Dungeons, and, second, I wasn't dead. Following this was the fact that I had no idea where I was. With a person I had never seen before. Which to my mind at the time, meant I had been captured by some hostile third party and was to be interrogated for information and would fail Sheik despite all the trust he had placed in me. (Really, I already _had _failed, but I suppose I had self-defensively fabricated some shred of honor for myself to protect.)

My mind was racing to come up with a way of getting away from wherever this was while completely ignoring the fact that I couldn't move my body. It occurred to me after a few minutes that to be able to escape I had to at least be able to _stand up,_ so I forced all of my concentration and energy into one leg... and got a small twitch.

Maybe I made a small noise or something, but in any case, Malon noticed I was awake. She paused for a moment, and without any fear strode up to me. With every footfall nearer my heart sunk further into hostility, or maybe it was terror; I just remember that when she smiled down at me I wanted to slit her throat. My face remained stoic.

"Finally awake, are we? It's about time, Mr. Moocher... I've had to sleep in the barn for a whole week now!" I wouldn't have recognized sarcasm if it had taken human form and slapped me in the face. It would take a while for her to teach me that sometimes when people say something they actually mean the exact opposite – it's still rather stupid, if you ask me.

She sort of peered down at me for a minute before continuing. "... I suppose it would be kind of pointless to ask if you're okay, huh? I've never seen anybody that badly messed up before... as if your shoulder and leg weren't bad enough, I had to try and heal your _hand..." _Her little shudder was enough to bring memories of bone-gnawing pain pulsing through my fingers as I tried to cling to the stone wall to slow my fall. "Look, um, I'm not exactly a trained healer or anything, but I figured I'd better not bring you to the doctor. You know, seeing as you're all secret-y and stuff. Is there anything I can get for you?"

I refused to look at her and stared instead at the ceiling. "Ooh, too high and mighty to talk to little old me, eh?" She shook her head, sighing dramatically and placing her hands on her hips as she leaned back. "I suppose I don't get any thanks for taking care of you, then?" I didn't even blink. "Okay, have it your way," she hummed and skipped out of the room without another wasted second.

...and that was my first encounter with Malon. The biggest things often come in the smallest packages.

"Geez fairy boy, you're even more stubborn than I thought!" she groaned as she attempted to get me to eat for the umpteenth time. The ceiling was probably getting worn out from me glaring at it for so long. By then I had become used to her schedule; she'd come in at about 7 to start washing the clothes, sweep at 10, rant at me about her problems at 11:30, chase the chickens around for a while, start cooking at about 5:30, and come in intermittently to try and shove some food down my throat. (Oddly enough, she never tried to physically make me drink the LonLon milk she bragged about constantly and placed a bottle of in a vat of ice by my bed fresh every day.) I had also deduced that her father was a rather relaxed man who would much rather sleep than work (an assumption that, as it turns out, was correct), she had some obnoxious farm hand named Ingo, and was motherless. I still, however, had neither opened my mouth nor looked her in the eye. And for the record, I still have no idea where the nickname "Fairy Boy" came from.

"Great... a half-dead guy comes riding in all torn up and bloody on some horse in the middle of the night, and I have to give up all my time – and _bed_ – trying to heal him, but when he's finally able to sit up after like a _week – _in which he was hogging _my bed –_ he won't even look me in the eye. Or eat. Who in Din's name doesn't eat for a week!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air and nearly sending the porridge flying from the bowl.

I remember being tempted to snap at her that not eating for a week was nothing, and any respectable Shiekah should be about to go for at least a month without decent supplies, when Talon poked his head through the door and piped gruffly, "Some soldiers here ta see ya, darlin'."

"Soldiers?" she muttered, furrowing her eyebrows and finally placing the porridge down on the small wooden nightstand. (That might have been the first time I smirked in several years.) "What for?"

Talon just shook his head wearily and stepped back out the door, making room for his teenage daughter. She paused just before leaving, glaring back at me and hissing "_Don't _think you've escaped eating that."

I glowered after her, but strained my ears to try and hear what was going on in the other room.

"- attempted to assassinate her Highness Princess Zelda and fled Hyrule Metropolis six days ago. He would have been badly injured, and riding a brown horse." I frowned. Epona was definitely _red. _Stupid Hylians couldn't see worth anything in the dark. Not to mention I hadn't been trying to _assassinate _her. "He's believed to be a young man, with blonde hair and a slim build. Have you seen him?"

I sighed and leaned back into the pillow. It was really astounding how disorganized the Hylian Knights were. I'm sure the Shiekah knew I was at Lon Lon Ranch no later than a few hours after I arrived there. I had been anticipating this moment since I woke up – the moment I would fail as a Shadow and disgrace Impa forevermore among our tribe as the mentor of an assassin who was captured – the worst fate a Shiekah could meet.

Thanks to Malon's efforts, I was able to sit up with pain flowering only from the arrow would in the back of my shoulder, and the night before had even managed to drag myself along with floor (my right leg was severely broken) and retrieve my small dagger from where Malon had placed it across the room. Even if I tried to crawl with one arm across the floor or out the window, I wouldn't be mobile enough to escape for a week yet.

Still, I wasn't about to go out without a fight. I clutched the tiny silver hilt of the dagger under the covers, the sensation spreading tightly through my torn and atrophied body. Typical Hylian Knights were known for their incompetence, but in my current state I probably wouldn't be able to handle more than two or three, and from the sounds of horses breathing and stomping outside it seemed like a brigade was stationed just beyond the thin wooden walls. I took solace in the fact that if all else failed, I could take the dagger into my own breast and at least avoid that one, final shame.

"Hmm... I don't think I've seen anyone like that." Her words blew over me like a warm wind.

"Would you mind if we took a look around?" A pause.

"On what grounds?"

"Ex...cuse me?"

"On what grounds do you have a right to search our property?"

"Like I said, a Sheikah assassin has-"

"I already told you I haven't seen him."

A tense silence pressed from the doorway. I couldn't see into the main room, but all it took was hearing Malon's voice to imagine her standing, staunch footed, in front of the entrance. The playful energy I was used to had faded into a sort of contrite politeness, and even that had almost snapped in her last statement.

"Miss, do you realize who you're talking to?" The Knight's voice had taken on a tone of warning now.

"Why of course. You all are Knights from Hyrule Metropolis, yes?"

"Precisely. And as Knights, we have received orders to search Hyrule and its borderlands until we find this monster."

"Orders from whom?"

"Excuse me?" Another Knight had cut in, irritation bubbling under his accented voice. "What does that-"

"As I take it you know, Lon Lon Ranch has a special agreement with the King. He grants us this land and reprieve from Royal taxes as long as we breed and provide specialized horses for his advisers and Generals. As such, this land is the property of the crown, and you cannot enter without signed permission from King Harkinian."

"But we're Hylian Knights! Surely we can-"

"If you're here on orders from the King, surely you have a permit?"

"Listen, _lass, _don't play smart with us. We're here on orders from General Amadi, His Majesty's most trusted military adviser. Don't try telling us that isn't good enough for you bumpkins."

"M-Malon, darlin', maybe we should..." Talon's voice quavered helplessly and I could almost feel his glance pass over to the room I lay in.

"_No. _The terms of our contract with the King state that anyone who comes here without his express permission are no more than trespassers and will be punished. Wanna see the papers themselves?" Malon's voice was almost pure contempt now.

"I've had just about enough of you, brat!" I heard a shuffling sound and tried to leap up but was incapacitated by pain. "Permit or not, what to stop us from just shoving you aside and-"

"_Let go of me._" The command was simple. Her voice was firm.

I never talked to Malon about that day, but knowing her as I do now, the scene is almost hilariously easy to imagine: Malon, eyes narrow and full of fire, legs spread sturdily and hands barely twitching into fists, staring into the Knight's eyes in that way of hers that makes you backtrack into questioning your own motives; then, as she next speaks, a low steady tone that starts as an untraceable threat and ends in an almost playful smirk. "I apologize if this inconveniences you all, but I really must obey King Harkinian's direct orders and not allow you to breach our contract, lest I become a traitor to the Kingdom. You all wouldn't want that, would you? Now, if there's any way at all I can help in finding this runaway assassin that _won't _break the law, I will be more than happy to assist you. After all..." She would finish with the perfect smile, head slightly coked to the right and eyes glowing with mischief, "LonLon Ranch will always remain loyal to the King."

Malon made no comment about the indecent, and I was disgustedly impressed at how quickly she began to nag me about eating again. (She never missed a day of bringing a bottle of milk, either.) It went unspoken that the soldiers would return with a Royal Permit, possibly within the week, and this only added to the mutual understanding that I would be gone as soon as I had the strength to stand.

This didn't seem to bother Malon; she had cared for me knowing this all along, knowing also that she wouldn't receive so much as a shred of gratitude. Yet she continued to come in every day, talk to me and pause for responses she knew wouldn't come, and turned a blind eye to the fact that every night I would do push-ups with my good arm and leg to prepare for the hour of my escape.

I hadn't seen many Hylians, but I knew she was unusual. As underexposed to emotion as I was, I could sense it coming off people in droves almost as thick as a tangible scent. This was true of her, too; her happiness was like sunflowers in the breeze, irritation like spoiled eggs... and yet it was muffled, somehow, as if there were a veil of apathy or perhaps faithlessness spread evenly over her heart. I've met many people who keep close watch over their emotions, but none quite in the same way as her. Whereas I had been trained to seal them away and never look back, hers were not restrained, per se; she looked at them and remembered them, kept them by her side, but never let them wander too far. It was a type of calm, confident control not even Zelda could come to master.

This coupled with her staunch defiance of the Knights had placed the tiniest seed of respect within me, along with something I had not known since the earliest days of my childhood: curiosity. How was it that she was able to act so naturally towards me? Why did she continue to care for me despite gaining nothing in return? These thoughts did nothing to increase my temperament about her: quite the opposite, really – it was despicable that she should allow herself to fraternize with her blood enemy, and brave as it had been, placing herself in danger to protect me was the epitome of foolishness in my eyes.

If I was surprised by one thing, it was that she asked me no questions. Beyond just knowing I wouldn't answer, she seemed to have a serious regard for my privacy. I could sense questions thrumming just beneath her skin, and I think she figured out that among hers was the one whirring around frantically within my own mind: _Why haven't the other Sheikah come to get me? _

"Well, Fairy Boy, it's time to change the wrappings on your hand. Come on, let's see it." I lay perfectly still. She blinked once before reaching over my body and jerking my arm towards her relentlessly. The gesture would have made any normal person howl in pain.

I kept my eyes fixed on one particularly interesting knot in the wooden wall and she slowly began to unwind the thick mass of bandages. I put much more thought into the cool breath flowing into my lungs as I tried to ignore the raw sting of air jabbing like needles into the exposed flesh, and I heard Malon sigh in unease. ten days time had done almost nothing to heal the lump of mangled flesh.

As always, she talked to try and distract me from the infernal searing of warm water against my raw bones.

"You know, I wish you could be as agreeable as your horse. She hasn't complained once since she got here, and eats everything I give her. You should really try to learn from her." I scoffed so subtly it was no more than a twitch. It wasn't the first time she had brought up Epona; as a trained horse handler, how could she not? Large for a mare, she was built of pure lean muscle and could both outrun and overpower any generic warhorse, and wasn't afraid to do so. But above her determination and strength and even outstanding intelligence was her bright and unwavering loyalty; even when faced with the most dire of situations she would refuse to back down and would stand by her rider no matter the cost. Unbeknownst to myself, my pride would swell like bread in an oven at the mere mention of her name. Malon sighed sadly. "Such a fine horse. It'll be a pity when she's gone."

The comment caught me off guard and made me glance at her face for the briefest fraction of a second. It was probably just my imagination, but something in her eyes or her voice or her demeanor made it seem like she knew, then, that that would be the last time she would ever see me.

At least, what I thought would be the last time.

After a rare few minutes in silence, she had finished scrubbing at the stumps of my fingers. "Ugh. I'm not getting paid nearly enough for this." I still didn't recognize sarcasm. "Ready for gauze?"

I inwardly squelched. At no time were Malon's farmer's hands more apparent than when trying to preform delicate tasks such as applying ointment and wrapping bandages. I got smacked quite a few times for laughing at her catastrophic attempts at knitting over the years. But that didn't make it any more funny to have my hands pinched and poked roughly at every turn the bandages took around my fingers. But for all the pain, I can't deny that it helped, and I might not be able to use my leg or arm properly even now if not for her.

Lost in concentration, she didn't notice that for the first time since she took me in, I was looking directly at her. Her hair really was an extraordinary color, not like autumn leaves or sunsets or even flames, but more like fresh blood. Even her eyelashes, long and slanted downward, carried the deep crimson hue. Her skin, sun-flecked halfway to ruddy, belied her status as a farmer in a way even her plain and washed-out clothing couldn't. But she had no tired worker's eyes. If there was anything ever to exist in the world that could be called "sky blue," it was Malon's eyes. They were sky blue in a way even the sky couldn't hope to be. See, the sky is constantly changing; from orange and pink to deep midnight blue and sometimes purple and even green, not to mention when clouds white and grey stretch out over the horizon: its hardly ever the same. No matter the season, time, or circumstances, Malon's eyes never wavered from that bright, pure azure. Ever.

I quickly looked away when she glanced up and wiped imaginary sweat from her brow with a loud "Whew! Glad that's over with!" She considered me for a moment. "Hey, what's wrong? Finally realized that the wall isn't going to react no matter how long you glare at it? You look sullen." I realized I had my lips parted and eyes loosely lidded and quickly reconfigured my face into a grim glower.

"Haha, that's more like usual." She giggled, then brought one arm high above her head and stretched with a wide yawn. "Mnn... It's getting pretty late. I think I might hit the hay... literally." I waited for her to comment on how I was still hogging her bed. She didn't. Instead, she strode over to the door and gave me an impish grin over her shoulder. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if that milk didn't go to waste. It is the best in Hyrule, after all. Not that I haven't already told you that. But it's not like I can miss a chance to advertise, now can I?" She smirked lopsidedly. "Good night."

'Good night.' What an oxymoron.

I waited until the house was still and the faint orange glow from the barn had vanished, watching as the moon shyly formed from betwixt the thin mist of cloud cover through the window. I had no qualms about leaving without a trace; it was my job, after all.

Slowly, but not clumsily, I got to my feet. My leg was tightly bound in a brace, and walking was no easy feat. I crossed the room at a snail's pace, lifting my weapons and gear in my left arm and holding them in the crux of my body as I fumbled with the lock on the window and slyly slid it open. I scanned the outside and dropped by belongings in the dust with a wince, regretful at how poorly I was treating them.

I took a deep breath and managed to haul my almost lifeless leg up until it rested on the windowsill, and was about to drop outside when I paused. I sat there for quite some time. Then, I heaved my leg back inside and hobbled laboriously back to the bedside. I paused for several long minutes before lifting the milk out of the ice vat and drinking it in a few gulps. Then, I placed the empty bottle on the small bedside table and finally left.

The air outside was cool and calm, hardly enough to send chills dusting across my skin. It only took one whistle for Epona to come leaping over the pen fence, more quietly than any horse could be imagined to be, and we were cantering out of the LonLon Ranch gates.

We rode a fair distance under the ghostly gaze of moonlight, until we came to rest beneath the withered silhouette of a dead willow tree. The slight wash of silver over the stable rooftops was a only blinking beacon in the distance now.

Attached to Epona's saddle I had found some peasant's bread, water, a pair of what I took to be Talon's old clothes, and a note, unsigned: Next time, youget to sleep in the barn.

That was the first time she got me to smile. Halfhearted and void. Not out of joy or even humor, only a bleak sense of misplaced fate. I knew for sure there wouldn't be a next time.

Maybe when Malon woke in the morning, some of her unspoken questions would finally have answers. Some, of course, would remain flitting mysteries in the chasm of human curiosity forever: like that one, burning anxiety that had seared the recesses of my conscious and unconscious minds alike... _Why didn't they come to get me? _

In all reality, I had known the answer all along. I had been declared a failure and had been left for dead. I no longer had any place within the ranks of the Shadows.

It wasn't so much that I couldn't _accept _this that I couldn't even _comprehend _it; for me, there _was_ no other lifestyle than that of an assassin. That was my world. My _entire _world. And it had just been ripped out from under my bleeding fingers.

Malon had done me no justice. By the laws of her people and the teachings of mine, I deserved to be dead. To be kept alive when all shred of honor and thus hope is lost is to torture and disgrace the very core of what makes a person a Shadow. And at that moment, despite what my mind was telling me, I was still very much a Shadow.

I had not in the slightest viewed what Malon bestowed upon me as kindness. It had been a miracle I had survived at all, and Malon had taken that miracle and nurtured it and turned it into something real. And I hated her for it. I hated her as I carried out all other orders.

But I had left a trace. I left no clue or article behind, and yet I had taken with me something she had offered, and with it a debt to be repaid. It was true that after ten days my insides were crawling with hunger, and yet I could have lasted a few more days. In fact, seeing as I had failed to die in the fall, I had half _hoped _to starve in lieu of what I knew was to come. Yet I drank the milk anyway.

And therein began the first traces of my understanding.

-A/N: Blah, really no action in this chapter. I hope it's not boring... TT^TT At least Malon is fun to write~3

Also, thanks to bellahelen101 for reviewing! You make me a happy person! :D


	3. Chapter 3: Judgement

Chapter Three - Judgment

I had always hated riding in Hyrule Field. Its flat, spacious expanse seemed to rush out to infinity on all sides, leaving me exposed on every angle with nowhere to hide. It gave me more visibility as well, true, but the paranoia that came with it had me throwing my head around every which way and raising false alarms over a distant tree or jut of rock until even Epona looked like she wanted to slap me.

The Hidden Village where the Sheikah resided was a maze of crevices shoved away into the recesses of Death Mountain, the streets so narrow and the light so scarce it seemed even the sky had a hard time finding it. Of course, this was the idea – while the Sheikah were a band of deadly and cunning warriors, their numbers were so scarce that to be found meant certain extermination. And so, they slunk away to the shadows which became their birthright, away from the trees and the clouds and the sunlight the Hylians had claimed as their own.

It was in that cavernous labyrinth of stone and cold that I was raised, and it was there that I was returning.

I knew there was no longer a place for me there. There never really had been, actually – through the kindness and authority of Impa and Sheik, I, a nameless Hylian orphan, had been allowed to survive and grow among their people, but this acceptance had not spread to other members of the clan. A Hylian was a Hylian, and no amount of training or spiritual practice could change the color of my eyes or the tint of my blood.

And yet, I had no other place to go. I had no idea how ridiculously easy it would have been to join the mobs of people milling about Castle Town (there must have been 100 blonde boys my age there alone), and Malon's Ranch was about the last place on earth I wanted to be. All I knew was that there was a void somewhere in me, and every day I spent away from the straight-lined society I was so used to made it wider and more open and harder to know which way I should go. I needed someone to tell me what to do.

And I was risking death for it.

I could feel their eyes all around me. Jagged and whispered, they slunk along the sheer rock faces all along me, staying hidden in the ruby sunset laden mountains. Epona walked ahead with a staunch pride, but I could feel the same agitation and anxiety broiling within her bones as mine. When the sun's last hand receded from the crags and peaks, they would make their move. I had to try and make it to the village before then.

The first shy stars budded in the sky, and I breathed deeply, keeping my heartbeat steady and expression steadier. They would not descend into the valley as long as the sun still touched the land, I told myself. But I couldn't help but feel that they were getting closer. Navy swallowed ocher in the clouds above, and all of a sudden they were upon us.

The first stepped out of the shadows directly before us, and I thanked the Goddesses that Epona wasn't some stupidly skittish farm animal. Three more quickly followed from the remaining cardinal directions, leaving me surrounded on four sides. I remained perfectly still and ordained that Epona do the same, lest I give them an excuse to attack.

"Why have you returned, Hylian?" The one before me spoke slowly, lips solemnly confined behind the sneer of his cowl, though I still recognized him as Hatham, a Shadow of about my rank.

I half gulped and readied my voice to speak for the first time in weeks.

"I have returned to reaffirm my loyalty to the House of Sheik."

He considered me for hardly a moment, cinder eyes made brighter and almost hungry by the barely-lit horizon. "You'll find no further refuge here," he scowled.

I chanced a glance at the Shadows to my flanks, not daring to turn to face the one I knew was lurking behind me. I knew that making further comment would be an invitation for them to kill me.

"May I speak with Elder Impa?" My voice sounded flat and far off.

"We cannot allow you to go any nearer to the village. We have no way of knowing that you aren't being... followed." The statement was like a cold knife in my lungs. They thought I was a traitor. They thought I was trying to lead the Hylians into the village.

But how could they? I was sure they had been monitoring my every move – if I had so much opened my mouth to shoo a fly away, they would have known and acted on it.

And then it hit me. Regardless of if I had said anything, letting a Shadow go free was far too dangerous; I knew too much, and could put the entire clan – and _race_ – in jeopardy. By all means, they should have come to either take me back or dispose of me right away. Sheik had held them off and tried to give me a chance to escape. A chance I had just pathetically wasted.

Hatham took a step forward. The others followed suit. I inhaled and fought to keep my eyes open.

"You realize we can't allow you to live any longer, don't you?"

I nodded.

"Draw your blade."

I shook my head.

Hatham took another step forward, though the other three stayed put. He glared briefly at them and then back at me, gritting his teeth. "_Draw your blade._"

Epona stomped at the ground and looked ready to charge at him, but I held her steady and gripped her reigns till my knuckles burnt white. My heart beat up into my throat and a sort of razor-sharp clarity pulsated through my vision, but I would not move. I would not become a traitor.

"Then you will die a coward." Hatham hissed and lunged.

"That's _enough_." The utter presence of command donned in that voice was enough to stop time in its tracks. Hatham looked as if the blood had frozen instantaneously in his veins, rendering him motionless, but very slowly he turned around and creaked into a bow.

Stepping out from the hushed blackness were Impa, head of the council of Elders, and Seif, chief in command of the Shadows. The other three Sheikah quickly fell to their knees, and I would have done the same if not mounted.

"Explain yourself," Impa shot at Hatham.

"Elder Impa," Hatham spoke clearly at the ground. "This Shadow has returned after an eleven day absence following his failure to complete a mission. As such, I believe he is-"

"Yes, I am aware of that." Impa's hardened ruby irises bored in on the back of his head. "Now please explain why you attacked an unarmed kinsman."

Hatham faltered following an almost seizure-like twitch in his emotions at the word "kinsman."

"Y-yes, Ma'am. By the decree of our law and the guidance of our mantras, any Sheikah who leaves without informing us of their whereabouts may be considered a threat to the Village's safety and must be killed."

"I am well aware of what the law states," Impa stated severely. "And if indeed his death is in the hands of fate, it shall be dealt out by a proper judgment and a proper execution. Seize his horse; he cannot walk." She turned lithely on her heel and stalked heatedly into the darkness.

Hatham looked like his chest was bursting with protests, but as if reading his mind Seif turned to him and with all of the precision of a hawk on the hunt, breathed "You will _obey_ the Elders."

The three lower ranked Shadows quickly formed a triangle around Epona and started heaving her forward, and she neighed in fury and would have kicked them to the ground had I not nudged her ahead myself. She looked indignant and glared sidelong at the escorts as we paced through the increasingly narrow crags of the deep mountains, snorting and jerking away each time one brushed up against her.

It had been a long time since I'd seen Impa that angry. I'd grown accustomed to the glint in her eye that served as a warning, the slight flare of a nostril that told me I was way over my head in trouble. But seeing her snap like that was a hurricane in the usually static winds of her composure. Her peppery grey hair glinted brilliant white in the moonlight as she swam in and out of shadow ahead of us, pacing quickly and silently and not giving me so much as a backwards glance. The three escorts stared blankly ahead, and I could feel Hatham's eyes bore into me whenever he glanced back. Seif's ever watchful and calm gaze was like a cold breeze from behind.

I was being treated as a prisoner.

We came to a cliff side so sheer it almost looked to be a wall, and with a few hushed words and a trace of her fingertips across its smooth surface, Impa undid the illusion that cloaked the entrance to the Village. I had seen magic preformed many times and could handle some powerful offensive spells myself, but seeing the stone surface being eaten away by a churning hole of blackness like vines slithering out to form a doorway always made my blood coil.

One by one we entered the vortex, Seif staying behind to make sure I didn't try to escape – not that it would have been possible, anyway. A wet chill passed through me as I entered, and the air seemed that much colder and closer than ever before. Like I was drowning.

Impa had still not met my eyes.

We traversed the alleys in silence, and I knew right away we were going to the council room. I of course had known there would be a trial, but I had expected it nowhere near this suddenly, and this above all else made the fear settle frostily in my bones. I needed to talk to Sheik, or Impa – the only ones who would hear out my story and realize that every waking breath from my body was an apology and that I would rather die ten times over than disgrace and betray them.

"Keep him here," Impa ordered and disappeared behind the beaded tapestry that led to where the Elders conferred about and upheld the laws of our society. Now that she was gone, I was sure that room would be my death.

Seif nodded to Hatham and the others before swiftly following her. The lower-ranked Shadows stood starkly around Epona and maintained stony-faced vigilance, as they should have – but I could sense Hatham's irises smoldering behind me with a trace of indignation masked by a sort of wicked satisfaction.

After a few minutes two Holy Guards stepped out from behind the tapestry and fluidly swooped into the darkness. My heart swelled with warm relief. They were going to get Sheik.

Seif appeared from the council room and held Epona's reigns with enough force to keep her from rearing her head. Impa was nowhere to be seen.

"Dismount," he said in that quiet way of his that made you unsure exactly if it was an order or not but made you twice as likely to oblige. I struggled to get my still bound leg from the stirrup and clumsily fell to my feet, willing myself to neither blanch nor flush. Seif nodded solemnly to one of the Shadows and handed him the reigns, motioning the other two to accompany him. Epona's nostrils flared and she rose wildly on her hind legs, shocking the young Sheikah white and nearly catching him in the chest with her front hoof. The others drew daggers with blinding speed and I was surprised I shouted "Stop" quickly enough to make them hesitate by reflex. By the time they realized it was I who had uttered the command, Seif had his hands placed lightly over their weapons and had scooped them away from the madly flailing equine.

I knew I had made a dire mistake by shouting, but Seif just gazed calmly at me and said, "Calm her, please."

After a moment's startled hesitation I hobbled forward, placing my hand gently on the side of Epona's neck and guiding her to the ground. It took a few moments to get her to look me in the eye, and even then her deep sienna irises were filled with alarm and anxiety. I held her gaze until she stopped stomping in agitation before turning to Seif, but he answered before I could even open my mouth.

"We are merely taking her to the stables. We will not harm her." I half-nodded slowly and turned back to Epona, palming her muzzle and mouthing some reassurances under my breath. Most of them, including "I'll be fine," were lies and she knew it, but she begrudgingly allowed the three Shadows to lead her away.

"Wait here," Seif ordered Hatham and motioned for me to enter the council room. My stomach churned. I hobbled a step or two forward before catching a flicker or motion out of the corner of my eye.

Seif and Hatham fell to one knee within a heartbeat of Sheik's arrival. I choked down my urge to call out to him and instead practically threw myself to the ground, hoping the gesture would be an explanation in and of itself. His cool sanguine eyes passed over me like water, betraying not a flicker of emotion or even recognition. I knew right away that he understood. In less than an instant, he had disappeared beyond the blood red tapestry without a breath left behind.

I lurched my way to my feet, Seif already holding the thick fabric aside patiently to allow me to limp into the flame-lit passageway hidden within.

I had never been allowed in the council room before – ironically, the only ones who were were the Elders and Sheik - who our people viewed as holy - and the worst of criminals who came to have their fates decided and dealt. I had no doubt which category I was currently placed in.

There was another, larger tapestry a few feet before me, concealing what I took to be the council room itself, as well as two carved corridors that stretched out to darkness on either side. Seif took the right corridor solemnly and led me along for what felt like an eternity to my sore limbs and back before stopping beside a heavy metal door and stepping aside to let me in.

"You will wait here," he stated simply. I shrugged past and slouched into the darkness, feeling a final breath of cool air flit past me as the door passed shut.

The room was small and pitch black. I slid back against the dank wall, pressing my cheek flatly against the smooth marble surface and allowing the solid sensation to sweep through my body. No matter what kind of training I had gone through, riding a day straight on horseback with my sustained injuries was far from comfortable. My muscles seemed to sigh into the calm stone, sending throbs of ache and sparks of pain filtering down through its grainy granite and leaving my body light and almost void of feeling.

I waited.

Against all odds, I felt my eyelids beginning to droop and I had to jerk myself back to awareness. I hadn't even realized I was falling asleep. This kind of stony silence held in every inch of sheer darkness, the static air void as the deep breath before the plunge – it was exactly what I was used to. It had been so long since I had been in the presence of true emptiness. Cold and stark and unfitting as it was, it was what I knew. Returning to it was... comforting.

Still, I didn't forget what I was there for. The weight of my crimes lingered like an intangible blade against my mind. Impa... the one who had taken in and raised me, my teacher and guide, the reason I was alive at all... she hadn't even let me sully her peripheral vision. Really, I understood why; she couldn't let the slightest shred of affection slide by, lest her objective judgment be questioned and my fate left to the two remaining Elders. And yet the dull hurt in my chest was still there.

I had grown farther apart from her in recent years, once I began proving my qualities as a Shadow and told myself I didn't need her support to keep myself afloat any longer. Still, providing I was in the Village, hardly a day passed when I didn't receive at least a glance from her.

Sheik was a completely different story. I hardly got near enough to see him anymore, let alone speak to him. At times it was almost hard to believe we were allowed to be so close as children. But Impa had a way of getting what she wanted. As Sheik's Aunt, she was next-in-line to be his mentor when his Mother died giving birth, and had somehow managed to manipulate her high status and fearsome reputation to the extent of being allowed to not only raise a Hylian as a Sheikah, but train him side by side with the future ruler.

Impa was the farthest thing from motherly a woman could be. Stern and distant, she would ride on us for the most trivial errors and make us repeat drills tirelessly many times after we could complete them perfectly. Every day was an endless flood of exhaustion, both mental and physical, and sometimes she'd make us train through the night without so much as a bite to eat or a word spoken. But sometimes, at the end of the day, she'd give us a small smile and nod so full of pride it was like finding a rare gemstone gleaming under the grimy sands. Those little acknowledgments made it all worth while.

And through it all, Sheik and I were together. Through the grueling hot days and shiver silent nights, there was hardly a time he wasn't by my side. We didn't get to spend much time talking, but we had a sort of tacit understanding that we were both being kept isolated for exact polar reasons, but we had each other and that was all we needed.

All that changed when his Father was killed. Hardly fourteen at the time, he was thrust upon the role of overseer and protector of the whole of the Sheikah clan where his every waking move could rule the destiny of his entire race. His name became his title, as was tradition, and he was elevated to a level of reverence and near godliness I could never hope to reach. He was kept mainly in the sanctuary, making trips to the council room and war council flanked by two Holy Guards who would point a spear at you simply for sneezing within a 50 meter radius. And yet all it took was far-off eye contact every few months to know that no matter what the outside world had done to him, he was the same strangely shy and contemplative boy I had spent all those long hours with.

Caught up in my reverie, I had no idea how much time passed before a jolt through my senses told me the massive iron barrier was being pushed open.

I painfully remembered my injuries when I tried to shoot to my feet, instead stumbling harshly against the wall and faltering to the floor in the most un-Sheikah-like way imaginable. My eyes widened and I was glad my gaping mouth was hidden behind a mask as I crawled hastily to my feet, hardly believing what I was seeing. I had been prepared for anyone _except _the very subject of my thoughts.

Sheik glided in silently, nodding slightly to Seif, who was stationed imposingly outside the door and who at Sheik's command slid silkily out of sight.

My throat gave some sort of weak croaking sound as I steadied myself against the wall and every thought I had never gotten to tell him over the past four years came rushing forward at once until they were all a big jumble of nonsense that twisted and condensed into two simple words: _I'm sorry. _

"Link," he stated softly.

It had been so long since I'd heard my name.

His voice had gotten lower since I had last spoken to him, but it still had that feather-soft and withdrawn quality that perfectly matched his gently inquisitive eyes. He was everything that was expected of a Sheikah: the very definition of svelte, observant to even the smallest details, intelligent and quick-learning without ever opening his mouth to ask a question. And even when being open, utterly stoic.

I was torn between trying to abide by the laws of society and just wanting to talk to my childhood friend again. I settled by sort of hunching over and mumbling down towards the ground.

"S-Sheik, I – I should never have come back, I just... I didn't... I don't know why, but I just couldn't attack her, and then I fell out of the tower, and Epona – she brought me to that ranch, I didn't mean to, and I left as soon as I could, and I never said anything to the girl. I didn't think – I _knew _I broke the law, but I thought – I would never betray you, and even if I have to die... I never wanted to cause so much trouble for you!"

He patiently let me finish rambling before speaking.

"By decree, you should be executed. It's taken every measure of Impa and my power to spare your life." He let the depth of his words sink in before continuing. "...However, this is not without it's price. You are no longer a member of Sheikah society." Any warmth that had seeped into my heart instantly flooded out. "You are to be bound by a magical Oath of Silence and expelled from the village. What you do from there is up to you, but you may never return." His eyes never strayed from mine.

I stared at him in dumbfounded silence. The thought of being executed had hung heavily over my conscious, but returning only to be exiled was something I had dismissed as an impossible nightmare. And to have it stated so simply, especially by the one person who I thought could _save_ me – he might as well have shoved a sword into my chest.

"Wh-what?"

"This is all I can do. The council is vehement already, and I cannot allow any more discontent to spread among the people... I'm overstepping the law as it is."

Suddenly, it was hard to imagine him as the person I had known so well. His features were all there, but for the briefest of moments, _he_ wasn't. The shadow of his burden dulled over his eyes, his stature and mannerisms and voice weren't his but that of who he was made to be. A stone-faced leader. It was the first time in my life that I had not simply viewed him as Sheik, but as _The_ Sheik.

"Is there... nothing I can do?" It was almost hard to breathe.

He considered me for a moment and then Shiek, the one I knew, was back. It was the strangest feeling, knowing it wasn't because of anything he had said or done but simply because my mind couldn't handle the thought that he – one of the _two people in the world_ that I trusted – had uttered such words to me. Betrayal, even the slightest tint of it, is a funny feeling: it can instantly turn the deepest of loyalties to sheer abhorrence and make even the most beloved of one's angels into wretched demons. At least until the despair settles in.

"Perhaps... there could be a way."

"Tell me!" I instantly forgot all manner of respect and let my voice crack in desperation, recoiling within myself and mumbling yet another apology when I saw the slightest glint of shock in his eyes.

I thought he was going to take a small step backwards in his usual shy manner, but he stood his ground and let his head tilt forward, voice dropping even below his mellow pitch.

"Are you so sure you wish to return...?"

I almost didn't hear him. He was gazing sidelong at the wall, and for the first time he gave off an almost traceable spike of what I perhaps mistook as anger, though maybe it was closer to disapproval or even _envy. _

"Excuse me?"

"No, forgive me. It was nothing." He shook his head lightly and looked back into my eyes.

"So, what can I do? Please tell me – I don't care what it is." He sobered his gaze, but it did nothing to extinguish the fanatic flame of hope he had placed in me.

"If you were to complete your original mission – capture Princess Hyrule and bring her to us alive – I might be able to use her as leverage to grant you your previous status." The huge surge of relief that pulsed through me must have been made obvious on my face, for he raised his hand before I could express my utter gratitude. "This is no guarantee. The other Elders will not take to it kindly, as you have already failed once, and it will certainly be no hero's welcome. This mission is of the utmost importance, and as you must realize, your failure has made it all the more difficult by informing the Hylians of our intentions... As such, Seif himself is going to lead a small band of elite Shadows in hopes of capturing her as soon as things calm down. Possibly within four fortnights."

I exhaled slowly. It was not unusual for Seif to take on the most imperative and often secretive of missions, but for stability's sake he was never gone for more than a few days and left the deadlier tasks to Shadows of my rank. But this did not alarm me so much as that he was taking a _squad_ – from the beginning, Sheikah of any stature are trained to rely on nothing but their own power and cunning, and for Shadows especially to work together was virtually unheard of.

Sheik peered into my eyes gravely, no longer searchingly but as if warning me to hurry. "If you have any hope of re-acceptance, you must capture her before they do. Otherwise... there is nothing further I can do for you, Link."

Hearing my name again seemed to bring me back down to reality. The blazing inferno of renewed hope Sheik had brought me diminished to what it should have been: the tiniest flicker of a rapidly shrinking candle.

The task at hand was virtually impossible. Not only did I still have but a fraction of my usual fighting power, but the Royal Guard would be on the look out for the slightest hint of trouble. Even if I had the time to fully recover, reaching her before Seif would be like outrunning a horse. It was a fool's hope... but that was all I needed.

Sheik looked almost surprised to see the bright glint in my eyes – the glint of fiery determination that would come to cast me as a hero that never gives up in the eyes of some and a stubborn mule in the eyes of others (read: Malon). As long as I had something to cling to, no matter how improbable, I could move on.

"Thank you... Sheik." I chanced his name and got a timid nod, like a wisp of light in the dark room.

"I must be getting back to the Council. Impa will come later to preform your Oath of Silence. Goodbye." He put no implication on the word like he believed it was the last time he would utter it to me.

The final flicker of hope seemed to waver pitifully into dust-colored smoke the instant the door closed behind him. But I held on, kindling it far within me so at least the ashes would always remain.

I withheld my farewell.

-A/N: Sudden saves, flashbacks, plot devices, HORSE ANGST, BLAZING INFERNOS OF HOPE~~ etc. etc. etc. It will start getting to the main plot soon I promise OTL

Reviews are much appreciated! :D


	4. Chapter 4: Dust

Chapter Four – Dust

The day the previous Sheik died, I swore I would become a member of the Holy Guard. I knew the road wouldn't be easy – only the most skilled and obedient of Shadows were selected for the station of accompanying and protecting the Sheik at all times, and my blood was working against me. Still, I realized then, as the Elders came and bowed before my only friend and declared him ruler of an entire race, that if I ever hoped to be by his side again I had to try.

I was only just starting down my path as a Shadow at that point, and over the four years that followed I worked slowly and steadily through the ranks with a diligence that even the Elders couldn't scoff at. After countless trials and tribulations, I finally managed to claw my way to the Shadow elite – the four assassins that worked directly beneath Seif. And then – my chance came. I was given a mission that could give me the credibility and reputation to finally climb all the way to the level of Holy Guard, to finally be able to stand by and protect my only friend. I was to capture the Princess.

And I failed.

All the drowsiness had gone from my eyes when Sheik left, and I waited again in unfeeling silence, heart beating faster when I thought that in the time I was sitting here, Seif and the others could be inching closer and closer to my target – my only chance of redemption. I almost forgot that it would be Impa who was going to preform my Oath of Silence.

When she walked in, I almost didn't look up.

"Come," she stated simply, and her back was turned before I could catch her gaze.

I stiffly worked my way to my feet, the numb pain that had seemingly worked its way into the cool stone returning to my body in full force. I hobbled down the hallways after her, the blinding sheen of dawn that rushed at my face as we exited the council room almost knocking me over. I had been locked up all night.

We seemed to be alone now, but still Impa stared unflinchingly ahead and I had to scrabble along till my leg jolted with unease to keep up with her. Daybreak had undone the magic the moonlight had bestowed upon her hair, and somehow it looked duller and greyer than usual in the approaching daylight. The cavernous alleyways were barren and dust curled in the static air, as if the sun had chased all forms of life into the crevices to hide.

In awkward silence we made our way to the spiritual circle, where I had spent countless hours undergoing magical training and trying to connect with the Goddesses. Apparently, all magic stemmed from communication with Din, Farore, and Nayru, but the only two races that could directly access their power were the Sheikah and the Hylians. The Three gave the Hylians ears to hear their words and the Sheikah eyes to see their truths – so the saying goes. Of course, some possessed more magical talent than others, but Impa said that had more to do with their level of spiritual awareness and respect than anything.

Magic was Impa's specialty. She could fight in one-on-one combat as good as any, but in addition she could preform the most complicated and confounding of spells with ease. The spiritual circle was her domain, and no one – not even the other Elders – would dare question her in fields that required an understanding of magic.

"Sit," she commanded, pointing at one of two small red cushions that sat opposite each other on the dusty floor. I sat, automatically attempting to get in meditative position only to remember that my leg wouldn't bend that far. I'm sure she noticed my sloppy position, but said nothing and sat facing me for the first time. Still, her eyes were focused on the small ink brush she was using to scribble incantations around the middle of the small circle between us, and she allowed me not a glimpse of her maroon tinted irises.

The room smelled of the same strangely spicy lavender incense as always, and I couldn't help but to remember all the times during magical training she had whacked me over the head and snapped at me to "be silent." This time, it would be for good.

She took my arm and started winding steely black inscriptions around my wrist, but there was no warmth to her touch and I felt the first real pangs of guilt. After all, why should she have forgiven me? I had let her down, and I had been foolish to expect anything but rejection from her. I didn't _deserve_ anything but rejection from her.

Feeling hollowed as I did, I hardly noticed as she held my hand fully in hers and placed them directly above the circular altar, eyes piercing through the fog of regret in my mind and reaching as if into the center of my being.

"Do you, Link of Hyrule, swear an Oath of Silence so that you may never again speak of the Sheikah, including but not limited to any of their history, whereabouts, tactics, intentions, and beliefs?"

"I do."

The words were simple, the despair simpler. A heavy aura of solidity settled on my hand and spread throughout my body, conjugating like iron dust in my lungs. I felt as if my wrist had been shackled, and looking down at my arm I saw the inscriptions actually wheedling their way down into my flesh, their black ink like seeds spreading just beneath my skin. Impa stared intently at my wrist, and for the first time I saw identical markings sinking down into the leathery tan of her arm, as well.

_Link of Hyrule, _she had called me. Not _Link of the Sheikah. _And I had answered.

And yet, we were bound.

I looked into the narrow crags of her face, the only Sheikah who would not wear a cowl and instead showed her vestige to the light with pride. It was not hard to see why she was revered; war was not kind to the Sheikah, and at 50 she was the one of the oldest surviving members of the tribe. With age came respect automatically, but she had commandeered an authority and prowess to rival that of the previous Sheik, her sister's husband. With time her wisdom and power had only ripened. There was no question that she was one of the most exemplary Sheikah in our remembered history. But what I felt for her was not the same veneration and almost god-like worship the others gave to her, but something perhaps very close to the adoration and need to fulfill expectations a small child might feel for their parent.

She stood up briskly and I slowly followed suit, wondering that if as she started into my eyes, however briefly, she felt anything more than bitter disappointment.

"Do you have any last wishes before you depart?" I was about to shake my head no when suddenly a phrase instilled itself in my mind, something she had taught me many times over but to which I had never given much consideration: _It's not what you leave behind, but what you take with you. _

"A single bottle of rose water, please." My words seemed to surprise her less than me. She motioned for me to stay put before exiting the clay room and leaving me to wonder why she didn't seem to find it strange that my last request was a small luxury item for which I had never cared in the past. Then again, being who she was, she had probably seen exactly what was going on in my mind; I had taken a bottle of milk from the ranch girl, and now I had to give her something in return. The reparation of debts, no matter how small, was mandated by the mantras. I was no longer bound by the mantras in actuality, but they were the only structure of law I knew how to follow.

She returned to me in a few minutes with a cool clay flask of mountain spring water tinted with the petals of a desert rose, and I accepted it with a bow that never quite ended.

"Epona is waiting in the stables. You are to leave by the Western gate." That was it. No goodbye, no lingering glance, no encouragement. I suppose even under normal circumstances I received none of these before heading out on missions, but this left me feeling as if the earth had been abruptly cut off from under my feet. She was gone, and I was alone – no one even to guard me. It wasn't out of trust, I knew, but because they didn't want to waste any more time or personnel on me even if I was still inside the village.

I slowly slunk my way down the rocky streets and felt neither the weight of the small flask or even my own body. The Village looked pitiful in the sunlight; like a burrow carved out of loose dirt. The stables only furthered this perception. The Sheikah didn't keep many horses, and those they did were usually only for transportation purposes. Among the sleek and small equines bred more for speed than power, my burly mare stood out like a sore thumb.

Epona neighed joyfully at my arrival, and I managed to force myself to pat her neck. She ignored the blatant apathy in the gesture and continued to prod at the ground excitedly, but I only found it distantly annoying. I sluggishly loaded my few belongings: a small dagger, the provisions the farm girl had given me, and now the rose water into Epona's saddle. I had been too full of adrenaline to notice the hunger gnawing through my torso, and with a bit of guilt I hastily downed the bread the ranch girl had given me.

Epona knew her way to the Western gate because it was really the only exit we ever used, and I was glad I didn't have to muster the mental strength to steer her. The gaping hole of blackness, always visible from the inside, swallowed us seamlessly and I remember wishing that it would have at least made it a little more painful to leave. I looked back to see a blank stretch of mountainside. There was nothing to distinguish it from the surrounding scenery, and oddly enough it seemed harder to figure out where the entrance was in the daytime.

I had no idea where I was going, but I was spared from any further pointless wondering as a shadow stepped out from behind a rock. In the bright light Hatham's eyes looked paler, his stark white hair blaring pallidly out from under his cowl.

I should have been beyond surprised to see him outside at that hour as it must have broken at least 10 laws, but I was so tired I didn't care.

"Why is it that _you –_ the _blood enemy _of anyone who proposes to be a _true _ Sheikah – is allowed to bumble around free when you have _disgraced _and _dishonored _the very name of our people with such an expensive failure!" He let his hatred come off in full waves, not even bothering to disguise it anymore. When I ignored him and bade Epona to keep walking, his anger spiked and he screamed savagely, "According to the law, you should have been executed!Why is it that a traitor such as you receives such special treatment!" I could feel irritation rising within me about the things he was insinuating about Sheik and Impa, but simply kept walking. This, if anything, seemed to push him beyond the breaking point.

He was at my back with a knife, but I miraculously managed to duck and elbow him in the ribs. The blow was shallow, and before I could properly parry with my wobbly dagger he had slashed at my face and managed to score a slight gnash across my cheek. I barely managed to shove his blade away before he could do any more damage. My left hand was still unusable, and my right was shaky at best.

Epona reared up and prevented him from counterattacking immediately, and I heard him swear under his breath as he swept below her flailing hooves. He shot up to my left with his dagger poised, but this time I was ready and slashed the blade completely away. This deterred him for hardly an instant and he lunged for my neck with his other hand, and I hardly jerked away in time to prevent him from stabbing the pressure point in my neck. It was still a nasty blow, so I gagged and took his kick fully in the side. The force nearly sent me toppling out of the saddle, and I knew that by the time I worked myself back up Hatham's dagger would be firmly embedded in my skull.

That left me little choice, then.

I let myself continue to fall and purged my mind of the surroundings until the world was a slate of white for me to fill as I wished, and with heart turned heavenward I filled it with the sound and sting of soaring green winds, twisting and surging with such force I felt myself and Epona lifted from the earth. When the cyclone cleared and the world returned, we were farther out of the mountains, though still nearby where Hatham surely stood cursing me. Farore's Wind, the warp spell, and the first bit of magic I had ever learned.

I could – and _should_ – have just used the spell to transport out of the mountains completely, where Hatham would have to be beyond insane to chase us. But a thought had bubbled up in the back of my mind: Hatham was an elite Shadow as well, and surely would be on the team Seif would assign to the capture of the Princess. If Hatham were dead, I may have more of a chance of getting to her first...

Still, even if I were fully healed, a fight between Hatham and I would be frighteningly even. I was surprised I had even made it out of that minor skirmish alive, but I suppose it just proved what the mantras taught all along – a war waged when the heart is clouded is futile. I had never seen so much hatred in a Sheikah's eyes than in his at that moment, and his fighting ability had suffered for it.

Then perhaps I stood a chance? As much as I hated to admit it, I was Hylian and daylight worked to my advantage. Plus, I had heard Hatham was weak in the realms of magic. If I managed to work all that together, it could make my task much easier later on. Impa's voice nagged in the back of my head, admonishing me of what treachery I was undertaking by attempting to kill a comrade, even if he had first attacked me; but perhaps it was the lingering bitterness I felt towards her for distancing me or the desperation I felt at needing to complete my task that made me lead Epona begrudgingly back towards the fray.

The day was still young, and the sun barely managed to send its brilliant rays cascading down into the boulder studded valley where I could still sense Hatham's rage boiling. I kept myself hidden behind a cover of tall rocks and worked my way to the eastern part of the valley, where the sun would be at my back. I once again emptied my mind and called to the Goddesses, this time summoning a crystalline blue shield large enough to surround Epona – Nayru's Love.

Finally I urged Epona up a large mound of boulders, and peering over I could see Hatham hunched over in the middle of a flat expanse surrounded by boulders and rubble. I was behind a bolder at the top of a small hill not 20 meters from his position. It was now or never.

I kicked Epona hard and brought her charging around the bolder, and Hatham's eyes shot up only to be blinded by the hot bursts of sunlight refracting off the barrier. His pained stupor gave me just enough time to crash into him full force and send him flying with the brunt of the magical shield.

He skidded backwards into a rock, but regained his footing as only a Shadow could. As soon as he saw I was bringing Epona around again, he slunk quickly into the rocky outcroppings where Epona could not follow. Nayru's Love would protect me from any manner of attack, but I couldn't hold it up forever. He would see the precise instant it began to fade, and use that moment for his assault.

I moved out to the center of the open space and tried to detect his presence, but to no avail. I could feel the crystalline barrier beginning to fade, and kept my senses tense for the slightest sign of where his attack would come from.

Almost before I saw the needles I was twisting my arm sharply right to deflect them, and only too late did I realize that he had only thrown them as a distraction to get behind me. I whirled around expecting to see him slicing at my throat, but instead he was crouched low to the ground and my eyes widened in horror as I saw that his target wasn't me.

With lightening fast precision he thrust the needles into Epona's legs. She howled in agony and buckled beneath me, and I rolled away haphazardly as she toppled to the dust. I had barely the time to face skyward before Hatham was hovering above me, dagger sparking wickedly in the light. I was flat on my back with his feet pinning my arms and it was over.

And then he just stared down at me. His stance was ragged and I saw blood blooming from where the back of his head had smashed into the boulder, but none of that could be the explanation to why there were two trails of cleanliness trailing down his dust-matted face under each eye. If I hadn't thought it impossible, it would almost be as if he could shed tears.

And in the split second it took for his lip to curl into a triumphant sneer, I summoned up the last of my energy to unleash a wave of Din's Fire right into his unsuspecting face.

He stumbled back more in shock than real pain, but the flames quickly raced along his clothing and he fell rolling to the dust to try to extinguish them. I flipped over and crawled desperately to where Epona still lay sprawled out, jerking her injured hind legs and neighing softly. I barely managed to reach her before Hatham tore off his inflamed cowl and screamed after us with bits of his clothing still smoldering.

His eyes burned brighter with injustice than the hot red burn marks streaking across his face, and the last thing I saw as the raging winds of the heavens swept down to lift me and Epona was his hand outstretched so far it looked like it might break and his teeth gritting to form a single word: _justice._

I knew there was only one place for me to go.

Regardless of reasons, regardless of intentions, I had gone so far as to use powerful offensive magic against another Shadow. I was now every bit the traitor and criminal so many of them believed me to be. Maybe it was this sense of defeat that made me finally give in, or perhaps the urgent panic rising in my mind about Epona's injuries; after all, there was but one person I knew that would not only take me in, but who could also tend to her with the experience of a professional horse-keeper.

It must have been a normal, rather hot, and altogether boring day at LonLon Ranch – at least until a giant, lime-green tornado descended from the clear sky and plopped down a mare and a haggard boy in a ninja suit.

Malon's jaw dropped like an anvil and the rake she was holding slowly slipped out of her grip. The 20 or more horses in the pen neighed in terror and bolted for the opposite end, threatening to trample over the fence. I tried to hobble my way to my feet and watched Malon's mouth flap open and closed uselessly, and it took her a few moments to make out that the heap of ragged cloth was, in fact, me.

Her heart was still racing a mile a minute, but she straightened up enough to place her hands on her hips and stretch a wry smile across her face.

"Wow, that was quick. Can't you even live two days without me, Fairy Boy?"

However, her facade of calm was shattered when I lost my footing and fell to the ground face-first.

"O-oi, Fairy Boy!" her voice cracked as she rushed to my side and tried to decide if she should help me prop myself on my elbows or if she would only make it worse. "What-"

"Please..." I muttered, turning my head to try to see through my matted bangs. "Help Epona."

"Oh... Um- Okay!" The ashen fear on her face was flooded over by determination. "Where is she hurt?"

"Rear legs. Needles," I grunted and turned around in an attempt to face her.

"Can she walk?"

"No."

Malon nodded definitively and started jogging towards the house. "I'll be right back! Make sure she stays calm and doesn't try to move!"

I found myself nodding and turned to stroke Epona's mane. Her eyes were bright with fear and pain, but she was sensible and smart enough to know that struggling would only make things worse. She tried to neigh reassuringly, but it came out as more of a choked breath.

Why had I gone back? None of this would be happening if I had just escaped when I had the chance. I had been so obsessed with trying to regain my place in the village that I had done just the opposite – I had gone out of my way to try and _kill_ someone. And Epona had paid the price.

Malon returned faster than I thought possible, but it still felt like an eternity. She was wearing gloves and carried a bucket of water in one hand and a basket of various medical supplies in the other.

"So, it looks like she has three needles in her right hip and two in her left... which is good, actually. The hips are mostly dense muscle, which as far as puncture wounds go is less serious. What worries me is that the needles are still in there, and pretty deep from the looks of it. Taking them out could do more harm than-" I was already shaking my head. Sheikah were all about precision and never left any messy wounds – if they didn't kill you right then and there, it was unlikely you'd die at all.

"Take them out," I said simply. She regarded me for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Can you start a fire? I want to sterilize these," she said, throwing me some matches and a small pair of tweezers. I ignored the matches and created a small flame above my fingertip, running the edges of the metal tool across the top. She had already busied herself with cleaning the skin around one of the wounds, and it was clear she had dealt with similar if less severe situations in the past.

"Make sure you pull it perfectly straight, and go slowly," I said as I handed her the tweezers. I would have much preferred to do it myself, but my hands were slick with sweat and grime and she seemed sure of what she was doing.

"I need you to keep her calm and steady," she stated. Epona seemed resigned, but I continued to run my hand across her neck. Malon sighed. "Well, here's hoping it didn't hit an artery..." And with that, she slid the needle cleanly out.

"Oh, well... that was easy. And good, it's even bleeding a little bit... helps cleanse it," she explained. "Now, this looks like the whole thing, but I need to press on it a bit to see if there's any more still in there. If the level of pain remains the same, it means we've gotten the whole thing out. If not... well, just try to keep her calm." Epona looked weary but ready.

"Okay, here goes..." Epona twitched a bit, but otherwise no reaction. "Right, good!" Malon wasted no time in rinsing out the tiny hole and pressing a damp cloth with gauze over the wound. The other four needles came out just as easily, and I was a little shocked to see with what dexterity and confidence her hands moved with when tending to a horse... it was hard to believe she was the same girl who had so clumsily bandaged my wounds not two days ago.

"Aaaaand there we go!" Malon sighed heavily and fell back on her elbows after pressing a cloth over the fifth and final wound. "She probably wouldn't walk right away because of the shock and pain, and I still wouldn't have her move for at least a day, but she should be fine!" She beamed over at me, obviously both pleased and relieved. "But gosh... you sure have a well-behaved horse! Epona, was it?" I nodded. "Well, I already knew she was a fine mare, but she sure does handle trauma well, huh? Even our best horse would have trouble keeping his cool in a situation like that, tee hee!"

Odd as it was, I almost laughed along with her. I still felt guilty about harming Epona in the first place, but it was strangely exalting to know that she had made it out relatively unscathed. Here I was, right in the middle of the place I had so recently and thankfully left behind, after both nearly dying by and killing a Shadow and practically sealing away my fate as en exile, and I was _content._ It was sickening.

"Well, Fairy Boy, I don't suppose you're going to have a sudden change of heart and come eat lunch with me and Father, hmm?" I shook my head. "You do look a little worse for the wear, though... you going to take up even more of my time and get some patching up?" I shook my head again. She smirked. "Whaaat was that? I can't hear you!" She leaned forward and cupped her palm around her ear. I shook my head more vigorously. "Oh, come on... you can't pretend to be mute anymore," she grinned, waiting.

I gritted my teeth. It was humiliating that I had spoken to her at all, even if it was to help Epona. Sheikah weren't supposed to confer with outsiders, least of all bubbly little Hylian ranch girls... but then again, I wasn't exactly a Sheikah anymore, was I?

"I'm...fine, thank you." I mumbled with as little emotion and gratitude as humanly possible.

And, at that moment, Malon looked genuinely happy. Her eyes widened a bit with surprise, or maybe fulfillment, and it was like the sun itself chose to shine just right as to reflect off her smile.

"You're welcome!"

And then she was gone, and I was left with the birds chirping and Epona breathing and three days of ceaseless anxiety to whisk me off to sleep.

A/N: BECAUSE READING ABOUT SURGICALLY REMOVING NEEDLES FROM HORSES IS TOTES INTERESTING.

Each and every review makes me go all happy floaty~ Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5: Law

"That's him," they would whisper, "the Hylian boy."

I would keep training and pretend not to hear. It didn't matter what they thought of me. I was the same as them, and it didn't matter if they knew it or not. I was fine by myself. I would learn to be fine by myself. I would learn to hate Hylians just as much as they did: _more _than they did, because that word was a cage that kept me isolated far beyond what any of them could understand. They were exiled as a race, but I was an exile to my own body.

"I don't understand what Lady Impa is thinking... taking in something like that? Just a random orphan, not even useful as a hostage. And raising him so close to the Sheik's son? I don't want to doubt an Elder's judgment, but..."

My training sword would slam into the dust, and it would take all of my self-control to stop from hurling it at the whispering Sheikah. I was impulsive in those days; it took years for Impa to convince me that anger would only make the problem worse. But still, when I heard those people saying bad things about her – _abusing her power, bringing a potential danger near the Sheik, becoming too trusting – _how could I help it?

Sometimes I considered tearing out my hair – strand by golden strand – and laying out in the baking sun for hours on end to char my skin the terra cotta hue of those around me. But even then, what was to be done about my eyes? Could I paint them? Could I learn a spell to dye them scarlet? Or could I cut them – with a needle, perhaps? - bursting each individual vessel until the last speck of teary blue was obscured by the flow of blood? I didn't want them to say those things about me. About _her. _ I wanted her to be proud of me.

Impa showed her affection in subtle ways. She would pound my head for getting into a fight and in the process give it a slight ruffle for winning; when reading stories of the Creation and our ancestors' wars, she would act out the parts with her hands and her voice would take a warmer tone. Sheik seemed happy, and in those moments so was I. But it also made me miserable: because I'm a selfish child, see? I wanted more. Maybe it's because I'm Hylian, or maybe because I'm an orphan, but it's probably because I'm _human. _I wanted her to hold me. Ruffle my hair and tell me "good night, sleep tight" after a long day's work. Wait with me until I fell asleep. If I were lucky, I'd get to hear her call me _student._ And in my dreams, I heard her call me _son._ It was foolish, the wish of a lonely child, to hear that single word from her lips.

And just that... would have been enough.

My waking moments were almost dizzying, with the grapefruit colored sky pouring down through my eyelids even when I blinked. I hadn't realized so much time had passed – hadn't, in fact, realized I was asleep at all. Maybe that's why I thought it was a dream when I saw Malon standing there, singing and swaying in such a similar manner to the first time I saw her that it was almost impossible to think it was real.

I tried to hobble up without her noticing, but Epona neighed jovially and gave me away. Malon didn't stop humming as she turned to eye me, but gave a Cheshire grin and continued on with whatever mundane farm work that evening had brought her. It took me a moment to realize that she hadn't been smiling at me, but at Epona – the mare now stood fully and though somewhat shaky looked confident enough to run the hurdles surrounding the pasture.

I just stood there, slowly stroking Epona's mane and weighing my options, and didn't even notice when the airy melody came to a halt.

"You're lucky she's okay," Malon said softly, placing her hand next to mine on Epona's neck. I gave a small grunt and tried to avoid her gaze, but I still caught her rolling her eyes. "You know, me giving you grief about hogging my bed was just a joke... sorta. Honestly, it made me pretty guilty knowing that you were sleeping out in the pasture all night."

I froze. I looked at her furtively, trying to get my question across. Though I have a feeling she knew what I wanted to ask, she just raised her eyebrows and said, "We have words for a reason."

Biting my lip, I tried to keep my frustration out of my voice. She _had_ just helped me save Epona...

"What do you mean, 'all night?'" I mumbled.

She blinked. "Oh...er... guess you didn't realize? You've been asleep for about a day and a half."

If my eyes hadn't widened before, they certainly did then. A day and a half... a day and a half that Seif had been getting closer and closer to my target. He... he couldn't have gotten her already, could he? No, that was impossible. Wasn't it? No – no, they would have to choose the team, make preparations, formulate backup strategies... they couldn't possibly have gotten to her already. I still had a chance. I still -

"Uh, helloooo in there?" Malon injected bemusedly. I jerked up, no doubt with a ridiculously stupid expression on my face. "Wow, you musta been pretty deep in thought. You didn't really occur to me as the type that _thinks_ much... I mean – oops." She laughed apologetically, but I didn't have the presence of mind to realize I'd been insulted. My continued stultification probably just proved her point.

"So..." she hummed awkwardly, watching me turn in circles without the slightest attention to the outside world. I would have to find a way to sneak in within the week – but how? It was still difficult to move my leg – too difficult to steal a red potion? That was my only chance of being healed in time, but even then it would take another week at least. The defenses on the castle would be tighter – where would they keep red potion, anyway? Malon cleared her throat. "_So,_" she started again.

"Would you care for a glass a milk or something?" she asked, slightly annoyed at standing around for several minutes without getting anything accomplished. Suddenly, I remembered the rose water. Then I promptly tried to forget it. It was despicable, trading gifts with someone like this – and yet, what else could I do? I might as well get it over with...

Slowly I slid the bottle out of Epona's saddlebag and extended it towards her. She raised her eyebrows and glanced at me.

"...Yes?" she prompted.

"In reparation," I said dully, wishing desperately that I still had my cowl. "... for the bottle of milk."

There was a long pause.

Then she burst out laughing like a rabid hyena.

I jerked back, startled. She clung at her ribs, apparently too incapacitated to talk. "Yo-you..._milk!_ I mean... ha _ha!_" Seeming to regain her composure a bit, she pointed at me shakily. "I take care of you for over a week, make up some crap to keep the soldiers from getting at you – harbor you safely, use so many supplies healing your injuries... and you thank me for a glass of _milk?_ AHAHAHA!" All restraint lost once more, she nearly toppled over. I stood there with my arm extended.

When she finally calmed down enough to take me seriously, I expelled sternly, "The reparation of material gifts is very important to Shei-"

I gagged as a slithering pain shot through my arm, like fiery leeches weedling through my veins. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly dropped the earthen flask. Then as soon as it had come, it went. Malon paled slightly and stared at me, then shifted her gaze to the rose water still held in my hand. Then she stared back up at me again.

"What, are you trying to curse me with that?"

Ignoring her comment – sarcastic or otherwise – I leaned back against a slightly concerned Epona. So that was the Oath of Silence? It would be triggered at such trivial information as that repaying debts was mandated by Sheikah laws? But more than annoyance, I was aghast at myself for being so open-mouthed. Impa had taught me that even the tiniest bit of information could lead to our doom, and I had been so cavalier with a _Hylian_ of all creatures? A loose, careless, blindly destructive Hylian.

I once again extended my hand. "Rose water," I mumbled simply, not wanting to set off the Oath again. She peered at me curiously, then slowly took it as if deciding that it was not, indeed, meant to curse its holder into fits of pain.

"Well, thanks, er..." She fell perfectly still. "Ahh, how am I supposed to give a proper 'thank you' if I don't even know your name!"

That set off the warning bells in my head. I had trusted her up to this point and she had never asked me any questions... but wasn't that all the more suspicious? What kind of person would take care of a dying criminal from an accursed clan from the pure goodness of their hearts? Her lack of curiosity was even stranger. People like that simply didn't exist. Yet, if she'd wanted to kill me or hand me over to the guards, she'd had a plethora of opportunities. None of it made sense... what was she planning, and why couldn't I figure it out?

She stared at me furtively, sighed, and said something so unexpected that I had to do a double take: "You'll never make it anywhere near the Princess like this."

I just gaped at her, more than a little dumbfounded. She smiled and shook her head. "That was basically an invitation for you to give me an alias, you know." She giggled, and the sound was like a kitten purring on a battlefield. "Well, you do occur to me as the type that would make a bad actor..."

Ignoring her last comment, I whispered "How did you know-"

"Why else would you come back here?" She giggled again. "Unless you want to tell me now that you really did just miss me?" She looked a little bit wistful, but quickly shook it off. "At any rate, there's no way you'll get past the guards if you can't even fool me. Aren't you Sheikah supposed to be trained in the art of deception or something...?"

I couldn't believe it. Surely this girl wasn't so stupid as to not realize the gravity of what she was saying? Even in hushed whispers, saying something so treasonous could get her locked up for the better of her days.

"Why do you look so surprised? Considering I've already harbored a wanted assassin – twice – and even helped him recover, it's not like I can get in much more trouble." She shrugged. It was an almost exasperated shrug, like she realized she had made a bad move in a game of chess.

This was true, and when I thunk back on it, she had treated the Hylian Royal Guards with more than a little disdain. And then I looked at her. Her skin was tanned, from working in the pasture I assumed, but took on a more brownish tone than the bronze tint I saw in my own skin. And her hair – the pomegranate red found in the desert sunrise – I'd never seen a Hylian with hair that color before. Her mother had disappeared, she disliked Hylian soldiers, she made petty rebellions whenever she could...

This girl... was part Gerudo.

"It's not like I have it out for the Princess or anything, so don't get the wrong idea. It's just, y'know, you're kinda the underdog and I can't help rooting for you!" She gave a bright grin and turned back to her farm work, leaving my newfound realization to sink in. If she was part Gerudo, it all but explained her erratic behavior. The Gerudo hated Hylians as much as the Sheikah did, but in a much more boisterous way. They took the loud approach to revolution and raided any village they could get their hands on, known for their skill with thievery and even greater skill with blades. They were tribe of warrior women, proud and strong, and this girl surely had some of their blood running in her veins.

I subconsciously looked at her in a different light, though really she had done nothing departing from her usual antics. The words she had said earlier... they were hints, and quite cleverly dropped. Ridiculous as it sounded, I had never even thought about the idea of using an alias and sneaking into the castle under the guise of a regular Hylian boy. It simply wasn't how Sheikah did things; it was all about stealth, coming and going as no more than a wisp of wind, and exposing oneself even under a disguise was a rarely employed tactic.

But then... I wasn't a Sheikah by birth. My blue eyes had been my cage, but this time I could use them to my advantage; the Royal Family and their most highly trusted advisers would be the only ones to know that I was a Hylian, and none of the regular soldiers would expect a Shadow to walk right past them in broad daylight. Not to mention that the reports said Epona was brown; at this rate, I actually stood a chance of beating Seif to the Princess!

I must have been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't notice Malon leave for the cold storage shed and return with a rather sizable crate of milk. She gingerly placed it at the ground near Epona's hooves and stretched her arms. "Well, it's not that I don't appreciate that Rose Water you got me, but that's only the beginning of your debt, fairy boy." At that point I was finally getting suspicious that maybe everything she said wasn't completely true.. but it wasn't a lie, either. Whatever it was, she seemed to smile whenever she talked that way; Malon found any form of joking, especially her own, abnormally humorous. "You can start by delivering this to the inn in Hyrule Metropolis. You're going there anyway, right?"

Despite all she said earlier, she sounded uninterested. I found myself analyzing her every word now, and I decided that it was just a guise of apathy. The only clear thing was that she was providing me with another opportunity to practice my disguise.

"Yes, Ma'am..." I said, trying to speak at a normal volume.

"Wrong!" She interjected so loudly I jumped back. "It's Malon. Oh, the innkeeper will _love_ it if you call her ma'am, though... eh heh heh... I wish I could see your face when you meet her..."

"What kind of person is she?" I did my best impression of curiosity. It seemed Hylians always wanted to know everything about each other, regardless of if they'd actually ever met the other person or not. I didn't really give a damn about the innkeeper.

"Oh, you'll see. Telma will respect your privacy almost as much as I do." There was that strange tone of voice again, and the grin that always accompanied it. "Anyway, let me draw you up some directions. Dunno if you need them or not...?"

"No, thank you." I memorized the layout of the city when I first was assigned my current task. I knew this was acting practice, but I couldn't help feeling it was just a waste of time. I knew what I was doing, and I was itching to get going – _now._ Despite Impa's best efforts, my impulsiveness still clung to me.

Malon looked up at me from where she knelt by the crate and gave me a coy smile. "You're too stiff. But who knows, the Royal Family probably likes polite stuffed shirts anyway. I'm going to load this onto your horse now."

"Epona," I said suddenly. I almost instantly regretted it, but there was really no need to hide my mount's name...

Malon cocked her head to the side. "What a nice name. Seems to suit her quite well. Don't tell me you chose it?"

"Actually... I did." Well, it was the truth, and I probably blushed a bit to admit it. Malon laughed jovially.

"Well, you seem honest enough when talking about your horse!" She impressively managed to lift the huge box onto the saddle and I helped to steady it and tie it down from the other side. "I guess... You and I are similar in that." I couldn't see her face over Epona's back, but I detected none of the cavalier tone that I was starting to recognize as sarcasm.

When we both stepped out from around Epona, our eyes met, sky to robin's egg blue. She looked contemplative, and perhaps I mirrored her expression. Similar? A cold-blooded assassin and a farm girl who raised horses?

It made sense, somehow.

"I'll get going right away, then." I said with what I would like to think is confidence, but between my bad leg and hand mounting took a while. Malon looked at me the whole time and seemed to know I would refuse her help, but she didn't appear mocking. When I was finally sturdy, she spoke.

"You know, this still isn't going to be easy. Well, of course you know that, but... well, I don't really know why you're doing this or anything, so it's prolly pretty inconsiderate of me to say this..." She gave an uncharacteristic pause with a very characteristic tilt of the head. "...but if things go badly you can always come back here. You could stay here."

She said it so plainly, so simply, that even I was forced to hear her. It was a dream that lasted a millisecond; days spent with the sunlight dancing through the grass in the pasture, the scent of recently turned soil and manure, twilights watering and grooming the horses before heading in to a ready bowl of stew, nights spent curled on a downy bale of hay reading, dawns brought on by cuckoo's calls, the occasional delivery... And Malon, always Malon, there to rant about her troubles and pester her father and teach me how to lie, to smile, and to live. And then it was gone. I couldn't let it linger.

It was my job to charge blindly forward, to carry out my duties with honor and resolve, to trust my every action to an ideal envisioned by somebody else. It was a thin wire, and even glancing to the side could send me toppling over into doubt and uncertainty about the very nature of my existence. But it was the path I had chosen. I was here, now, out in the open air, but it was not my world. It was not my self.

"Thank you," I said, trying not to mean it. "But I can't." She sighed.

"Yeah yeah, I figured. I couldn't really respect you if you let yourself off that easily, anyway." She brightened up again, starting to walk towards the gate of the ranch. "Still, it's kinda sad."

We reached the gate and she ran to get some of her father's old clothes, which I stowed in the saddle bag. "I can't believe I'm letting you go without knowing your name."

"It's Link," I said nonchalantly. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Is that an alias?"

"Not telling," I stated, trying to mold the truth into a lie. She wasn't fooled.

"It'll be our little secret then, Fairy Boy."

The crate of milk turned out to be more useful than I'd expected.

Normally the moat around Hyrule Metropolis remained unguarded during the daytime, but with the recent scare there were two watchmen posted at every entrance. Being a young man on a horse, I was more under suspect than many of the other townspeople bustling in and out, and the guards took it upon themselves to interrogate me.

"As I said, I'm only here to deliver this milk to the innkeeper. I came from LonLon Ranch and have already been riding for almost a day, so if I don't get it there soon it will go bad."

"You sayin' you're Miss Malon's new ranch hand or something?" The first guard, a whiskery young man with weasel brown hair, seemed to find this prospect rather irritating. In fact, he seemed downright jealous. It left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Yes sir," I said, taking the path of least resistance. "And she certainly won't be too happy if our entire shipment is spoiled because the guards wouldn't let me in." It was okay to be a little angry in this situation, right? Most people would be in a rush, so it would be suspicious if I was too polite. "I'm in a hurry, so-"

"Now hold on one second!" The other guard stepped forward; seemingly the same age as myself, he had well-groomed espresso colored hair and looked like he would be more comfortable in a saloon than on a battle field. "Who's to be sure you didn't just steal that from poor Miss Malon and come here to make a profit?"

I had to restrain myself from sighing. This was all because they thought I had stolen from the ranch; they didn't even suspect me of being the assassin that got them posted here in the first place. It was pathetic. That said... I had no idea what to do. Bantering with Malon had been fairly easy, but I had no idea what a normal person would reply to an accusation like that. Regardless of what the other races believed, Sheikah were never trained to lie.

"I really am her ranch hand... I was just a traveler and she gave me this job..." My guise was slipping fast, and neither of the guards looked convinced. If I got sent to the castle for questioning, the chances of running into someone who would recognize me would skyrocket, and that wasn't an option. Was my only choice to kill them after all...?

"You two! Why are you pestering this poor young man!" A female voice boomed out from behind the soldiers, making them gasp and jerk into a position like toy soldiers. A woman seemed to materialize behind them, but from their faces it was more like they had just realized that gigantic spiders were crawling up their backs.

The woman was taller than me with a build that looked like she could tear through boulders if she so wished, but I could tell from a glance that she was no fighter and her potential strength wasn't so much as used for manual labor. Her high ponytail was vermillion with tints of maroon in the shadows, and her conspicuously low neckline made her burnt-sienna skin stand out even more. A Gerudo?

"N-nothing, Milady, just doing our duty to question anyone who could pose a threat to her Highne-"

"Don't 'Milady' me," she shot with a jab of her finger into the whiskery man's neck. "And last I checked the assassin was a Sheikah, not an adorable Hylian boy!" Either I blinked or one of her eyelids seemed to twitch in my direction. And wait... wasn't 'adorable' a word used to describe fluffy white bunnies and babies and other things that generally don't pull out concealed blades and stab people? Even if I was in disguise, I hardly thought I had fallen so low as to be compared to a fluffy bunny... or a fluffy _anything,_ for that matter.

She had an expression like she were smelling something long dead as she walked around the soldiers, but as soon as she looked at me a grin spread across her face.

"Malon told me you would be coming soon, but I didn't realize you'd be so handsome! Maybe I'll have to steal you and make you my own assistant!" Her eyelids made the strange twitchy motion again.

Malon? How had her name come into this? No... don't tell me... this was the 'innkeeper' the ranch girl had told me about? No matter how I looked at her, it must have been. My heart sunk faster than a sail made of lead. Still, I half-nodded on reflex and she laughed heartily.

"I'm Telma! It certainly is a pleasure to meet you!" Not knowing what to do, I took her outstretched hand gingerly and nodded again. "Oh, the quiet type, I see." Her smile cocked to the side and much to my surprise, she grabbed Epona's reigns and started marching straight past the guards. Epona seemed indignant, but I prodded her forward and tried not to look as stupefied as I felt.

With no further protests from the soldiers, she pulled Epona down an alley and into a dank-looking courtyard with crates stacked up along one edge and a shoddy sign proclaiming **Telma's Bar and Inn **in red font.

Malon had said this woman liked to addressed formally, right? "Excuse me, ma'am, but how do you know Malon?"

"Ooh-hoo-hoo, aren't you the polite one!" Her full cheeks gave way to girlish dimples when she smiled, and she motioned for me to dismount. I was honestly starting to wonder if she had some strange disease that made her eyelids move uncontrollably. "LonLon has the best diary products in Hyrule, and besides, how could I not know as cute a girl as that Malon?" She was talking loudly, and I noticed that a guard had just appeared at the end of the alleyway. She wanted him to hear this?

Without having an idea of what was going on, I decided to follow her as it was clear she wouldn't be answering any of my questions otherwise. "Well, I certainly am glad you came to deliver the milk today! We were almost clean out!"

The milk! Between being saved and unceremoniously dragged around by a boisterous middle-aged woman who seemed to think a brassier qualified as a shirt, I had completely forgotten that was supposedly why I was here. I now had no doubt Malon had sent me for another reason, though, as a guard was still watching keenly from the end of the alleyway. Telma gave me an impish glance and I mumbled an apology as I attempted to haul the crate off Epona in my still injured state. I managed to do a rather spectacular job, I must say.

Epona stomped and huffed disapprovingly when Telma motioned me towards the inn's entrance. "Now after your journey I'm sure some cold drink would do you good! You can tether your horse to that railing in the meantime!" She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I miraculously managed to suppress my instinct of flipping her over and slitting her throat. I was getting pretty good at this "normal" thing.

I gave Epona an apologetic glance as I tethered her and tried to keep my steps in time with Telma's lax footfalls. She gave a victorious sneer to the guard that was still eying us suspiciously.

As soon as the door was closed behind us, she turned around and leaned forward as if _trying _to line up my eyes with her cleavage. In short, it worked. Being raised as I was, I wasn't even used to seeing women's _faces, _much less their... their... _bosoms. _

"Whew, that was close!" She wiped pretend sweat from her brow and turned to face me, giving a wide grin. "Honey, for a second there I honestly thought you were going to give us away!"

Give us away? Malon... there was no way she had told this woman who I really was, had she! It must have been a huge mistake to come here after all. But, come to think of it, Malon hadn't even had the time to send her a message. How had she even known Malon had really given me that milk? Was she talking about something else entirely? I decided to take a chance.

"Give... what away, ma'am?"

"What else? So, where are you from? An outlying village that was destroyed? Ooh, maybe even from the forest? Even I've never met someone from the forest before!" Her eyes twinkled with enthusiasm, but she kept her arms crossed and was leaning back against a wall coolly.

"I'm... sorry, ma'am, but I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmm? You mean little Malon didn't tell you?" I didn't have anything to say to that. "See that little paint drip coming off the second 'L' on the logo? She only gives the crates with that specific drip to refugees she wants me to care for. Of course I know that you're not her assistant at all, and you're out of a home, aren't you?" The glint in her eye changed to that of soft understanding, though her smile did not fade.

Something about the look in her eyes was painful, and I found myself staring at the floor.

"So... you and Malon work together to harbor refugees? Why would you do that?"

She gave a bland chuckle and gazed over at the door. "In this war, it's everyone against each other. One small word of sympathy for another race and you find yourself ostracized by everyone you hold dear. It's everyone against each other, but it's also everyone against the weak. It seems kindness has started to be defined as weakness lately." Her sudden change of tone was surprising, and the stinging words seemed disjointed from her loose appearance. Her smile still lingered on her made-up lips.

"But I just can't stand for that. It's only those that are kind that can see the real truths: that we're all sick of the fighting, that we all just want a home. I don't care if they have blonde or red hair, lungs or gills, skin or stone. I take the rejected, the broken and weak, give them a place with warm food and beds where they can stay as long as they need to get back on their feet again."

"That's against the law," I murmured.

She caught my eyes, twisted to face me and bent over with her smile quirked to the right and her dark irises gleaming. "The law is wrong."

**-A/N: BLAHHHH filler chapter sorry... TT^TT Telma... hmm... I hadn't planned for her to show up until much later but I guess she just sort of forced herself in lol. We'll be seeing more of Zelda soon, don't worry~**

**Also, thanks very much to Le Sharp Magnet for the review! (I couldn't respond directly, so I figured I'd give a shot out here~) Not to spoil anything, but the characters will start to fit into more "traditional" roles soon. 3**

**Any feedback whatsoever is much appreciated! :D (Does not want to grovel for reviews but finds self groveling for reviews OTL)**


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